A Shadow's Heart
by swimhard2787
Summary: NWN2 OC with variations. An assassin hopes to find acceptance and love as she tries to escape her dark past. Bishop&KC. Oh, and feedback is appreciated! Chapter 29 now up, Horror and Mercy. Mature content/trigger warning for mentions of rape.
1. Meetings and Tables

**Author's note**: Just my view through most of the NWN2 OC. It started out humorous, but it has taken a turn for the dramatic and dark, which is to be expected with the pairing in this story. It is still rated M for language and adult themes later. The first few chapters have been updated a bit, just because I wanted it to flow better. Also, I know Cari might not seem evil in the first few chapters, but there is reasoning behind it, reasons that I will delve into later on, but don't doubt, she's evil.

A notice to anyone who might start this story now: I'm in the process of updating my earlier chapters, because, as I went back and read them, I started cringing. XD So, I'm rewriting and fixing up some scenes, altering others, just making them flow more with the later chapters. I hope anyone who has already read it enjoys the changes, and newcomers enjoy the new version! Happy reading! I'm currently working on Chapters 1-8, with chapters 1, 3, 7 and 8 reworked to my liking, so anything other than that hasn't been changed yet! And please, do let me know if I made changes for the better or worse, I'd very much appreciate the feedback, whether it's a message, review, the Pony Express... anything, I just want to know if I'm getting better as an author, or I've just shoved my foot in my mouth, so... please, do let me know your thoughts as a reader! It would really mean a lot to me! XD

* * *

"If I wanted a wench," an amber-eyed man snapped, sneering at the black-haired woman who had just offered him conversation as she gestured to the chairs in front of the Flagon's fireplace, "I'd go to the local brothel. I mean, has it been _that long _since you've seen a _real_ man? Leave me be. You tavern wenches are too much anyway."

_Well, _the dark-haired woman thought, narrowing her eyes, taken aback by his chilly reaction, Not_ the best way to inspire romance, you fool._

_Since that didn't work, we'll do this the hard way then...  
_

She eyed the man coldly, inwardly appreciating his handsome, muscular appearance before settling her face into a smirk. "Well now," she drawled, both vaguely insulted and mildly intrigued by his scathing response to her proposal of company, "That's a shame. Because a _handsome_ man like you must be _terrible_ in bed if you have to _pay_ for women to lie with you. Either that, or..." Her eyes flitted below his belt for a brief moment, and her smirk widened. "You lack in _other_ areas.

His upper lip tugged up into a snarl as he drew his sword from his scabbard. "Why you little-"

_Nobody insults my bedroom talents and gets away with it. She's about to get _very_ well acquainted with my sword. _He laughed to himself. _Hah, acquainted with my sword. I'm funny._

He swung carelessly at her, thinking her little more than a brazen tavern whore, and he only barely hid his surprise when she ducked and kicked him hard in the back of the leg, causing his knees to buckle. He was more than rattled to suddenly find himself lying on his back, and he grunted as she leapt up onto his stomach and leaned forward, her knees resting on his forearms as her swords crossed over his throat, her green eyes glittering in the firelight as her long, dark hair cascaded around them like a curtain.

_Well, _he thought_, _glaring up at her, realizing that he had been momentarily bested by a woman_, damn. Didn't see that coming..._

_She's _fast _for one of them whores..._

His grip on his longsword slackened and the blade clattered to the floor, drawing Duncan out from behind the bar.

"Bishop!" he shouted, throwing his dirty dishrag aside, "You get your hands off my niece this minute, you Gods-damned idiot!"

Bishop blinked, startled.

_**This** is Duncan's niece? The one from West Harbor I always hear 'im talking to Sal about?_

_Huh. __She's remarkably well-groomed for being a swamp girl._

_And she certainly doesn't _smell _like one..._

"She's blood?" he asked in reply, studying the young woman's face and rounded ears with some interest, "She doesn't look like you, unless she's some funny elf-breed."

_Good thing for her, _he chuckled to himself, finding the woman rather comely, now that he actually took the time to look at her, _and good thing she's not a whore, either. I hate payin' 'em._

_And she's Duncan's niece too. That makes things different..._

"Duncan's not blood," the young woman whispered, shifting her swords upward slightly, "But he's still kin." A slight frown creased her thin eyebrows, and she cocked her head to one side. "And what exactly are you staring at? See something you like?" She snorted. "For a _wench_, that is."

"I'm merely studying my prey." He leered suggestively at her. "I like knowin' what I'm up against."

_Oh, he's interested, _she thought, smiling to herself, _good._

_Now that I've got your attention..._

"Well, right now, your hips are up against mine," she murmured, gently shifting on top of him, "Do you like knowing that?" She rocked her hips forward, and he grunted again at the sensation of her rubbing his manhood through his trousers. A dark smile crossed her face. "Your body seems to-"

Her remaining words were cut short by Duncan's sharp, nasally voice. "Do I have to tell you again, ranger?" he said coldly, pulling a shortsword out from underneath the bar, "Lass, get off of him. Now."

"Aww, but I'm having fun," she said quietly, pouting as she eyed Bishop thoughtfully, "Besides, it's not like he's trying very _hard _to throw me off."

"Maybe I _would_," he growled, her blades perilously close to the artery in his neck, "If you weren't so close to severing my lifeline."

The tiefling standing nearby, watching the scene unfold, giggled. "What, this _real man_ can't handle Cari?" she mused, delighting in the man's discomfort, "You wouldn't be the first, I_ assure_ you."

_I can handle a _woman, Bishop thought, scowling, _I've yet to meet one that I can't. _ _It's the women that can't handle _me.

The woman named Cari grinned, a wild light shining in her eyes as she brought her lips in close to his, so close that he could feel her breaths as they passed over his mouth. "So it's Bishop, is it?" she whispered. The man nodded, his eyes wary, yet hungry. "Well,_ Bishop_, I would watch where you point that sword of yours," she purred, suddenly squeezing his waist with her knees, "Or _stick_ it, for that matter. You might miss out on a _very..._ enjoyable time." She leaned forward even more, pressing her breasts against his chest as she grazed her lips across his unshaven cheek, figuring that he would enjoy a taste of what she had to offer him. A reluctant shiver coursed through him at the feel of her warm body so close to his.

_Hells, _he thought, groaning at the feeling of his body instinctively stirring beneath her, _she's_ good.

_Damn it all..._

Her lips curled into a seductive smile, strikingly similar to the one he wore when on the prowl for some easy, drunken wench to satisfy his need. "By the way," she whispered softly, playfully brushing her lips against his ear in a way that sent a tremor down his spine, "It _has_ been a while since I've seen a real man. If you know any, send them my way."

Her smile widened and she suddenly jumped off of him, sheathed her swords and smoothed back her elbow-length hair. She twisted it into a bun at the nape of her neck and tied it with a leather strap she plucked off her belt. "Duncan, don't wait up. I've got... business tonight."

Duncan's frown deepened, so that his thick, dark eyebrows formed a severe line above his eyes. "Lass, you know I don't like all this sneaking about you're doing-"

She walked over to him and pulled him into an embrace. "Duncan," she said softly, squeezing him tighter, no longer wrinkling her nose at the smell of alcohol that always seemed to linger around him, "I'll be fine. You'll have to forgive my secretive nature. It's... who I am."

"I know, lass," he whispered, sighing heavily, knowing any argument with her would just prove futile, "Just, be careful, aye?"

Cari rolled her eyes as a grin spread across her lips, slightly amused that someone cared enough about her to be concerned about her safety. "All right, all right, I'll be careful, I promise. Just promise to have that vegetable stew I love waiting for me when I return, and I'll be careful."

Duncan gave her a reluctant side-smile. She worried him, and if she had her eyes on Bishop... he didn't like it. "Alright, I'll have it waitin' for ya when you return. Be safe."

She waved her hand in acknowledgment as she approached the tiefling, who was waiting for her by at the door. "Ready, Neeshka?" The other woman nodded enthusiastically, excitedly swishing her sinewy tail. "As always. It's nice being home again."

Cari straightened the buckles on her leathers, more out of habit than anything else, and opened the door, glancing back at the man still lying on the table. Bishop had propped himself up on his elbows and was watching her closely, his keen eyes an enticing mix of suspicion and lust.

_Perfect, _she thought, unsure if whether she should be proud of herself for what she just did, _just perfect..._

_Now, if I could only calm myself down..._

She threw him one last smoldering look and swept out the door, her curiosity battling against her common sense over whether or not she should turn back briefly, if only to catch a glimpse of what Bishop was doing now.

_I wonder if he's still watching me, _she thought, her heart suddenly racing in her chest, _I seemed to have interested him..._

_But what if he's not? Did I just make an ass out of myself in front of Duncan and everyone else for no reason?_

_Gods, I hope not..._

"You do that with _all_ the men you meet?" Neeshka teased, breaking Cari from her thoughts, "What kind of reputation do you have back in that West Harbor place, anyway?"

Cari pursed her lips, both irritated and grateful for the distraction. "Actually, no, I don't, but this one seemed worth the trouble," she replied smoothly, waving dismissively at the man peddling his wares, trying to sell her trinkets she didn't need, "And I don't care what kind of reputation I have in that place. Besides, I'm not sure we should be comparing reputations. Does the name Leldon ring a bell?"

Neeshka giggled. She was Cari's best friend in Neverwinter. While Khelgar and Elanee berated her and lectured her on how being part of the Shadow Thieves wasn't something to be proud of, on why stealing the money off a nobleman right in front of the City Watch was both reckless and dangerous, Neeshka was always there with a "So what?" or a "Yeah, and?" and the occasional, "Sure, whatever, yeah, just _run!_"

"So, how long are you gonna work _this_ one?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in genuine question, "You realize that poor sailor you tried to bring back can't look you in the eye anymore, right? I think you permanently scarred him..."

"The sailor couldn't handle me, Neesh. And he was married. Not my fault." Cari went silent for a moment, and a devious smile crossed her face. "I'll work Bishop as long as I have to. I love pushing them to that breaking point, the passion is just so…" she closed her eyes and sighed, _"Amazing_. Besides, if the loud moans that have been coming from his room are any indication, he'll be well worth the wait. It's been far too long since I've been with a man who knows what he's doing."

"You sure he'll be that patient?" Neeshka inquired, deftly relieving a nobleman standing nearby of his coinpurse, "Damn, only a handful of coppers. Traveling light today." She sighed, pocketed the coins and tossed the empty purse under a nearby bush. "I'm sure you caught his interest - how could you not, you were _sitting _on him - but how can you be sure he'll actually _try?_"

"I'm pretty sure he will," Cari said softly, sidestepping two children sitting on the ground, playing cards, "As sure as I am that he'll be in the private bath within an hour working out some 'tension.' I'm pretty sure he wanted me to give it to him right there on the table, and the fact that I didn't, and I _won't_, will probably drive him insane. You heard him. He's used to getting it when he wants it."

"You may have met your match in this one, girl." As they passed a merchant chatting cheerfully with a customer, Neeshka effortlessly swiped a promising-looking necklace from the merchant's table. "I've seen you sweet-talk city guards, merchants and _Sand_ of all people, but I'm thinking Bishop may be hard for you. And that's _not what I meant!" _she added hastily, cutting off any lewd comment Cari might have made.

Cari shrugged, shaking her head as Neeshka slipped the necklace into a pouch on her belt. "It'll be fun nonetheless. I think he's such the 'divide and conquer' type he'll drive himself crazy thinking about ways to get in my trousers."

Neeshka laughed, quickly moving out of the way of a young girl running after a black blur that must have been her cat. "Did you just say, 'divide and conquer?'" Cari nodded and grinned, kicking a stone towards a nearby tree, for no reason in particular. "You are seriously twisted. Is everything that comes out of your mouth dripping with innuendo?"

"Not _everything_," Cari said, chuckling as she stopped in front of a large, intricately-carved door on the northern side of the Docks district, "Sometimes what comes out of my mouth is dripping with something _else_." As Neeshka made a gagging noise, Cari sighed and reluctantly grasped the doorknob. "Let's see what the dear bitch Moire has in store for us today."

--

Meanwhile, back at the Flagon, Duncan was busy preparing dinner and Bishop was looking for solace and comfort in something very familiar and comforting to him: ale.

"Hey, Duncan," he growled, his hand wrapped tightly around an old pewter tankard, the metal cool against his fingertips, "What's the name of that niece of yours again?"

_It's not like I was listening to the damn tiefling when she said it..._

_Too busy starin' at the swamp girl's tits..._

Duncan scowled as he threw some more onions into the kettle heating in the fireplace. "Bishop, I know what you're thinking, and the answer is: no. Never. I'd like to think that my niece has standards, despite what she just did to you."

Bishop raised an eyebrow, the words more biting than he'd expected. "Ah, Duncan, you wound me. I am only interested in her name, maybe where she came from… what kind of _men _she tends to prefer…" he finished, his emphasis on the last few words painfully evident, more so than he had intended.

"Not," Duncan said harshly, chopping a tomato more vigorously than he meant to and nearly slicing the tip off his left forefinger as he did so, "You."

_Stupid fuckin' barkeep, _Bishop thought angrily_, just tell me her damn _name _already! _

He took another long drink from the tankard and slammed it down onto the bar, the noise echoing loudly around the nearly-empty common room. "Come on Duncan," he said softly, his voice cold, almost threatening, "Her name won't hurt, will it? And _why_ are you so convinced I only want to do wrong? Perhaps I'd be doing her a _favor_."

_She looks like she hasn't had a good fuck in a while. I can practically _smell _it._

Duncan stopped stirring the vegetables in the kettle. "Bishop, I've seen you bed more women in a week than most men do in a month. I know that your intentions are _far _from pure. And Cari's my _niece_. She's kin, my _only _kin, aside from Daeghun. If _she_ wants to, and you're _not here_, then by all means, go for it. But while she's living under my roof, I'm going to do my damned best to protect her from you."

Bishop's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Fine, you smelly bastard, keep your pretty little niece's name a secret. It won't be for long, and once I find it out, I'll be sure to bellow it nice and loud while I'm pounding away at her."

"I have my reasons for not," Duncan said icily, pointing the knife in his hand at Bishop's face, "And that's one of them. Drop it."

But Bishop couldn't get her out of his head. Rarely had a woman been so forward with him. Some had played with him, others enticed him, but he couldn't remember any woman who'd showed such fire and passion. He kept thinking about the warmth of her body, the tempting, feather-light touch of her lips on his skin... he imagined them on _his_ lips, on his body… on his manhood, now pressing insistently, unyieldingly against his pants.

_Well, I'm guessing a trip to the bath is in order, _he thought, more aroused and frustrated than he wanted to admit, _if I get any harder, damn thing'll burst through my trews._

He drained the few remaining drops of ale from his tankard as Duncan's words ran through his mind, something that annoyed him greatly, since he hated hearing the bartender's nasally voice any more than he had to.

_"I know that your intentions are far from pure. And Cari's my niece...__"_

_Cari. Hmm, Cari… that's it, Cari._

_Nice name.  
_

Bishop shoved the tankard to the back of the counter as Duncan started chopping garlic, filling the common room with a delicious, spicy odor. "I'm off," he smirked, not bothering to hide his arousal as he strode off, drawing some odd stares from Duncan's few remaining patrons, "And tell Cari when she gets back that she's quite good at… err, _handling a sword_. I wonder if she'd have any trouble handling mine."

He snickered triumphantly to himself as he turned the corner and headed towards the Flagon's bath, with Duncan's curses echoing down the hall behind him.


	2. Rituals and Githyanki

**Author's Note:** Not much to say on this one; I don't see Casavir as a romantic rival or as a romantic option, just as a sweet, big brother type for Cari, so, enjoy! Thank you for reviews, they truly mean a lot to me! This has been updated as well, just so I'm more comfortable with it. I had to reformat this one, due to something going wrong with 's new document system, so... sorry to anyone who read it and found that it didn't quite make sense.

* * *

Bishop had watched her for three months after she had pinned him to the table. He had watched as she had returned that night, covered in soot and smelling like smoke as the Watch building burned to cinders. He had watched as she brought the crazy gnome bard, Grobnar, back to the Flagon. He had watched as she danced on a table with Neeshka, Qara, and Khelgar, with Grobnar playing the music, after eight tankards of mead. She seemed to be what he desired in a woman: beautiful, yet terrifying; mean and sharp-tongued, able to twist words and talk her way out of anything… and she could throw out language that would make a Docks sailor blush.

He especially loved her talent for innuendo. He wouldn't be able to look at his longbow the same way again.

She had occasionally looked back at him, pretending not to notice him staring, but his eyes on her made her heart race. Bishop took a secret pleasure in noticing how her clothing slowly became tighter and more revealing as the months rolled by, showing off as much of her slender frame as decency would allow, and Cari couldn't avoid noticing he spent a lot of time in the bathhouse.

The chase was wearing on her the longer it continued, and Neeshka giving her trouble at every possible opportunity didn't aid the situation. "Come on, Cari, just sleep with the guy! Stop teasing him, his head's about to explode! Both of them!" or "Cari, if you don't sleep with him, then _I_ will," to which Cari had replied by nearly cutting off Neeshka's horns, or Cari's _personal favorite_: "I saw him in the bath last night, he's _huge!_ Just _do it_ already!" said as Neeshka gestured wildly, arms flailing as Cari stared at her in shock.

Cari had long given up explaining to Neeshka, the queen of impulse, how the thrill of the hunt made it more intense, more interesting. The assassin stalking the ranger while the ranger hunted the assassin made for some tense nights at the Flagon.

It all changed the night Cari brought back the paladin. Bishop had been content just to sit back and watch her, seduce her from afar, but now he was _convinced_ he had competition. The paladin was tall, muscular too, and handsome with black hair and ice-blue eyes. He was a threat. He seemed to be quite taken with Cari, and Bishop couldn't tell if the feeling was mutual.

_Hells, paladin, you look at her like that again, I swear…_

Cari had noticed it too. From the night she had brought Casavir back, Bishop had changed. His attitude went from suggestive indifference into an aggressive, alpha-male stance. He was suddenly watching her every move, every laugh, every drunken swagger, every time she talked to Casavir.

_By the Hells, Bishop, Casavir's a _friend_. Grow up._

The only time Bishop let his guard down was the night Grobnar had come to Cari and Neeshka asking for advice on, as he put it, "the human mating ritual." So, Cari scooped him up and set him on the table between the two of them and proceeded to explain it, without embarrassment, and without omitting _anything_. Casavir had retired unusually early that night, around the time Cari had explained to a wide-eyed Grobnar how dexterity plays a part in some mating "dances." She could feel Bishop's eyes on her the whole time, and was sure he was drinking in her words.

_I've got to admit, _she thought,_ I like him looking at me, though if something doesn't happen soon, he may explode, and I'll be bored._

And Neeshka was growing even _more_ persistent, and now Cari had Shandra, the farmer to worry about too.

"Cari, are you actually doing this for fun, or just to torment the poor man?"

"Neeshka, I'm waiting this one _out!_ I'm not giving it up too soon!"

"It's been three _bloody months! _I'm not sure how much more he can take!"

Cari sighed. "Well, I'll talk to him after we get Shandra back to the Flagon, okay? The _least_ I can do is talk, right?"

Neeshka grinned. "Well, seeing as the guy's been spending a lot of time alone lately, I'm thinking talking'll be the _last_ thing on his mind."

"Well, we'll see."

It was already twilight when Cari, Grobnar, Neeshka and Casavir arrived back at the Flagon, Shandra in tow. Cari was disappointed to discover the common room was empty, except for Duncan and Sal, who had stayed up with food. As they ate, she told them about the githyanki, about how they had broken into the archives, about how they had nearly gotten Shandra kidnapped, and about how they managed to escape.

Duncan laughed particularly hard when she told them how one gith had kept interrupting Grobnar's song, and the poor gnome had gotten so frustrated he'd smashed his lute into the offender's stomach.

As Duncan explained to Grobnar that there was a merchant named Deekin who could help fix his lute, Cari felt Neeshka's tail wrap around her ankle.

"So, where's bow boy?" she whispered.

"I dunno. He has to be around here somewhere, he lives here, doesn't he?" Cari yawned. "Doesn't matter, I'm tired, I'm going to bed. I'll talk to him in the morning, unless he's escaped."

Neeshka giggled. "Hey, I'm a big fan of a meaty breakfast," she said, winking. Cari laughed and slapped her playfully before getting up and giving another hug to Duncan. She sauntered off to her room, giggling to herself as she passed Casavir trying to calm Shandra down with that paladin charm of his.

_He's too charming for his own good. Too bad it doesn't work on me. He's like this big, overprotective older brother. I absolutely adore that._

She shook her head as she changed into her silk nightgown and slipped under the covers, images of githyanki floating around in her head.

_Why can't I think of something _good_ for once? I'm sick of dreams about githyanki._

As she drifted off to sleep, she smiled as Bishop's intense, wolf-like eyes burned in her mind.

_Now_ that's _more like it, _she thought, passing into a restless slumber.

ooooo

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Flagon, Bishop was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands linked behind his head and Karnwyr snoring on the floor beside his bed.

_I should have stayed in the common room. It's been over three months. I can tell she's getting restless._

_And if I have to spend another night by myself, by the Hells, I'll just take her._

Bishop had refrained from his usual prowling ever since Cari had pinned him to the table. He wanted her, and only her. It consumed him. She would be his greatest conquest.

_A conquest who probably wouldn't take kindly to me bedding other women, _he thought.

He rolled his eyes as he heard the gnome practicing a new song the next room over, apparently unaware of the way the damaged lute sounded like a dying dire badger.

He sighed and closed his eyes, prepared for another night of tempting dreams and frustration when he heard Duncan yelling.

"Get up, everyone! The Flagon's under attack! We've got githyanki!"

Bishop's eyes snapped open and he jumped out of bed, throwing on a pair of linen trousers and his quiver as Karnwyr scratched at the door, growling.

_Hmph, I was looking for a reason to kill someone today_, he thought, grabbing his bow and opening the door. He notched an arrow and followed as Karnwyr burst out, lunging for the throat of the nearest gith.


	3. Nightgowns and Cinnamon

**Author's note**: There is supposed to be more humor in this chapter than seriousness, I hope it shows through. I have rewritten bits of this chapter, because I'm uncomfortable with how many lines from the game I had used. So, for my own comfort, I changed it. Enjoy!

* * *

Cari shifted restlessly in her sleep.

_Her dreams tempted her, tormented her. Dreams about the sultry, yet furtive looks she threw Bishop across the common room, thoughts about the lustful glances she'd receive in return… Dreams about how he would always seem to be waiting outside the Flagon's bath whenever she emerged, her skin glistening, a towel barely covering her lithe body. Dreams about how he always stood close to the door, so she could get right up against him and brush her breasts tantalizingly against his chest…_

_Dreams about how he would grab her waist to slide by her in the kitchen and lightly grind his hips against hers, his touch blazing hot… about how she would occasionally come to eat in just her smallclothes, loving the look of longing in his eyes..._

_Her imagination took over. She was standing in front of him, his hands on her hips and her arms around his shoulders. His eyes smoldered in the torchlight of her room._

_'Well now,' she whispered, her lips a mere breath from his, 'It's wonderful to know you've been pining for me all this time, but what are you going to do about it?'_

_'This,' he growled, pulling her hips towards his and kissing her hungrily, fervently, his hands roaming all over her back, caressing her neck, twisting in her hair…_

_He pulled away. 'What are we waiting for?' he breathed, claiming her lips once more, his kiss savage, intense…_

_Wait a minute,_ she thought, her mind conscious again, _Bishop sounded like Duncan._

_Oh, Hells…_

_Wait… no that_ is _Duncan__._

Her eyes flew open at the sound of her uncle pounding on her door.

"Lass, get up, we're under attack, grab a weapon and-_arrg!"_

"Duncan!" Her heart pounded in her ears as she scrambled out of bed, grabbed her swords, and raced out the door, her long hair flying behind her like a war banner.

Duncan had drawn away two githyanki, holding them at bay by punching out at them and then ducking to avoid their swords. One had its weapon raised to bring it down on his head.

_Where in the Hells is she?_ he thought as he dropped to the floor, _She should be up by now! I kind of need her-_

He gasped as the githyanki in front of him suddenly stopped mid-swing. The tip of a silver blade poked through the gith's chest for a few seconds before it disappeared, causing the gith to crumple in a heap at Duncan's feet.

"Nice to see ya, lass!" he shouted as the other gith roared in anger and swung his sword at Cari.

"Good to see you too, Duncan!" she yelled, dodging the blow from the gith and removing his head from his shoulders in one smooth swing. She heard Grobnar scream and bolted to the common room, with Duncan on her heels.

"Lass, couldn't you have taken the time to at least put on some _actual_ clothes?" Duncan barked at her as her short, silk nightgown fluttered about her legs. "Or at least some shoes?"

"Oh, _do forgive_ me, Uncle," she said sarcastically, "I was too busy saving your behind from githyanki, I _completely_ forgot to put on pants!" She jumped up and kicked another gith square in the chest, knocking him flat on his back before driving her swords into his chest.

Duncan was thoroughly relieved to discover she was wearing smallclothes.

Khelgar paused briefly in his attempt to dislodge his axe from the back of another fallen githyanki, who lay sprawled across a table. "Duncan's right, lass, you should at least be _decent_ for a fight. Is that what you _always_ sleep in?"

Cari screamed in frustration as she sliced into the stomach of the gith in front of her. "Don't you have anything better to do than to lecture me about my clothing choices?"

"She's right, you know," Neeshka said, driving her daggers into the throat of the gith who had just attempted to slit hers, "We do have more pressing matters than the amount of skin Cari's showing at the moment."

"Thank you!" Cari yelled. She yelped as an arrow whizzed over her head, and she whipped around as another one zipped over her shoulder. She grinned as she saw a githyanki standing nearby fall to the ground, arrows sticking out of his skull and neck.

Bishop drew another arrow and scanned the room, looking for more githyanki. A vicious smile spread across his lips as he spotted one just behind Duncan.

_I could probably kill him now and claim it was an accident…_he thought cruelly. _That would take care of everything…_

_If you hadn't just showed off for Cari by barely missing her..._ his voice of reason replied.

He had faltered when she ran in the room. She had distracted him so much he had nearly planted an arrow in the gnome's ass. As if her skimpy nightgown wasn't enough to distract him, her long, dark hair was loose and unruly, matching the wild light that blazed in her eyes. He had never seen her use her weapons before, save for the time she had pinned him to the table, and he had to admit, she was skilled with her blades, gracefully slashing and stabbing with them as if they weighed nothing.

_You know,_ he thought, _in the midst of battle, she really looks like some agent of Death./i._

_Huh, who'd've thought that Duncan's little niece was as fierce as she is. I like a woman who can handle herself, even with the paladin always butting in._

_Ugh, the paladin..._

Just then, Casavir strode into the room, sword in hand and wearing his short, linen smallclothes. He stopped dead at the sight of Cari fighting in her nightgown, and a deep flush rose in his cheeks. "Milady, I believe it is far more prudent to fight in armor, rather than that, that, silk thing you're wearing now."

Cari snorted in disgust.  
_  
Not now, Casavir, _she thought angrily_, a little busy at the moment!_

"You really should go change into your leathers, we have this under control."

Cari stopped and stared at him. "Casavir, are you serious? You do realize that I pretty much rolled out of bed and started fighting? Says the man in his smallclothes?"

"Yes, it is rather obvious that you were sleep-"

"Casavir, I was sleeping. Besides, your snoring scared most of the enemy out here, they thought we had a dire bear locked up!"

He chuckled, carefully avoiding looking at her body. "Sorry if my snoring is so loud, but at least it kept the githyanki away from the customers. And be thankful I have on my smallclothes. If I came out in what I sleep in…" he shrugged, shook his head, and then drove his sword into the chest the last gith.

"Ooh, ooh, if I came out in what I sleep in, I'd be in this wonderfully warm red one-piece set of pajamas that keep me so cozy when it's cold!" Grobnar interjected, happily searching the bodies for anything useful.

"Do they come with their own butt-flap in the back?" Qara muttered under her breath, brushing soot off her dressing gown.

"Now that the battle's over, should I change?" Cari said aggressively, her swords sticking out as she put her hands on her hips, "Or is everyone going to continue to tell me my nightgown's too short?"

"That's not what's important right now, Cari. That lass, Shandra, she's gone!" Duncan said, his voice breaking in panic, "The githyanki took her!"

"Well then," Bishop said derisively, "You'd best get going if you have any hopes of tracking them down, because I surely won't."

Cari had rarely seen him out of his leather armor, and whenever he was, he usually wore a simple dark tunic and linens, but now, as he stood over the body of a fallen githyanki, wearing only his trousers, sweat and scars shining in the torchlight, she had to admit... she was impressed.

She watched the way the muscles in his back flexed as he leaned down to examine the remains. "Ah, look, a piece of Duskwood," he drawled, picking up a small twig from the gith's boot. He took a deep breath in, letting the scent of the sprig fill his senses. "That's Luskan wood."

"Wouldn't that be your area of expertise, Bishop?" Duncan asked, squaring his shoulders and glaring at him.

"Yes, it is," Bishop said coldly, straightening up and throwing the piece of Duskwood aside, "But you forget something important. I don't care. I'm not running into Luskan territory after some pathetic farmgirl who can't even take care of herself, and I'm certainly not going with a woman who doesn't have enough sense to dress properly."

_ Oh, really now?_ Cari thought. _Fine, be an ass._

Her hands fell to the hilts of her swords. "It would be such a shame to mar that handsome face of yours, ranger," she snarled, "So perhaps you should cooperate."

"Oh," Bishop smirked, secretly enjoying her spirit, her fire, "The woman hears no and she threatens me. Happens all the time. I'm used to it. In any case, you're both dumb and deaf if you don't get it by now: it is not my problem."

Cari had rarely exchanged words with Bishop since she had pinned him to the table, but she had to admit, she found his aggressive demeanor... exciting. She liked the way his eyes lingered on the small slit in her skirt, how they traveled up her body to her breasts, how she could nearly see him thinking about how he'd slip the straps off her shoulders.

Part of her hoped that he couldn't tell that she was eyeing him as well, but the other part of her knew that he did, and that he liked it. She enjoyed drinking in the sight of his body, all lean, powerful muscle, and she especially liked the dusting of dark hair that rippled over his impressive chest and stomach, drawing her eyes down to the waistband of his trousers, which, sadly, prevented her from seeing anything else.

"Well, not bad, eh?" Neeshka whispered in her ear.

"What do you mean?" Cari mumbled, watching the staring contest going on between her uncle and Bishop, who had reluctantly lifted his gaze from her breasts.

"Told you he looked good," Neeshka sighed, swishing her tail excitedly.

"Yeah he does… you were right. How did you find that out, by the way?"

"You really should tell your uncle that the lock on the bath's broken."

Ah, saw that one coming.

Duncan cleared his throat and sighed heavily.

"You will be helping them Bishop," he said firmly, "Whether you like it or not."

"What could you possibly say that could-?"

_ Oh, my…_ Cari thought excitedly as she watched her uncle fold his arms over his chest and give Bishop a look of deepest loathing, _Duncan's angry… _

Bishop set his jaw, eyes blazing in anger. "So, now you call it due, do you? Is that it?"

"You won't go after Shandra willingly. If this is what it takes to get you to go, then so be it."

"Fine," Bishop spat furiously, "You old fool. You wasted it, but that's fine by me. At least I'll be rid of _you._"

Duncan sighed. "If that's what it takes, Bishop."

Bishop nodded, letting his lip curl into a snarl, as though eager to say something venomous, but instead, he turned to Cari, deciding to not bother with Duncan another moment. "All right, go get your things, we're heading into Luskan territory." He chuckled suggestively. "I'll let you go change into your armor… unless you plan on _seducing_ the enemy into cooperating."

Cari smirked and walked forward, letting the thin silk that covered her breasts graze against his skin. "I'd have done it to you, but Duncan got there first," she murmured, winking. "Negotiating works far better than threats, anyway. It's a shame, too, because I'm quite… vigorous when it comes to negotiating."

Bishop arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling into a seductive half-smile. "I'm sure," he grinned, inwardly savoring the warmth of her body so close to his, "Perhaps we could have worked something out." He gently brushed a finger down the hollow of her throat, not missing her sharp sigh of pleasure, the soft sound sending a wonderful shiver up his spine. "You'd find that I can be quite… demanding. I'm not an easy man to please, are you sure you would have been up to the task?"

_Oh, that's not fair..._ Cari thought, her desires starting to overwhelm her, _Challenging me like that..._

Slipping the tip of her tongue between her lips, she let her gaze fall briefly to the waistband of his trousers before snapping them back up to his eyes, eyes of intense, piercing amber. "You wouldn't have been disappointed, I'll tell you that," she purred, giving him her most alluring, enticing smile. She stepped even closer to him and pressed her belly against his, so he could feel the heat of her skin. "Perhaps we could-"

"Cari," Duncan interrupted, scowling, the warning obvious in his voice, "Perhaps it would be best if you just put on your armor now." He advanced on them and Cari quickly took a step back, startled by the look of fury on his face. "The longer you wait, the more danger Shandra will be in. I have called my debt due. There is nothing you can do to change my mind. Now go get dressed."

"Your smelly, drunken uncle is right, Cari," Bishop said scathingly, silently seething at Duncan's interruption, "For once. Leather does tend to stop weapons better than silk, so it'd be better if you changed."

Cari rolled her eyes and shook her head, angry with herself that she had come so close to giving in. "All right, give me ten minutes. I'll be back."

"Don't keep me waiting," Bishop chuckled, narrowing his eyes at Duncan, "Or I just might change my mind."

She turned on her heel and flipped her long hair over her shoulder, brushing it against his bare chest. "You won't, but I'll be back."

Bishop watched as the muscles in her long, lean legs rippled under her pale skin, and he couldn't help but smile to himself.

_Hells,_ he thought, _I can't wait to have those legs wrapped around my waist..._

_Bet she's flexible, too... Flexible's always good..._

Suddenly, Grobnar turned and looked at Bishop, his face an odd mask of innocence and confusion.

_Oh, damn!_ A panicked voice said in his head, _Did I say that out loud?_

"Err, Sir Bishop, is it? Did you just say something about Cari's legs?"

_Oh, fuck..._

"I don't know what you're talking about, gnome."

"I'm fairly sure I heard you say something about Cari's legs and your waist, Sir Bishop."

Bishop could feel Duncan's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. He turned in time to see Duncan stomp off towards Cari's room.

_Damn it, Duncan…_

"No, Grobnar," Bishop hissed, grinding his teeth in irritation, "I said nothing of the sort, now drop it."

"All right," Grobnar said happily, slipping back into his usual pleasantly-oblivious state of consciousness.

Bishop shook his head as he walked back to his room to put on his own armor, Karnwyr at his side.

_Damn temptress,_ he muttered to himself, a reluctant, shuddering moan passing through his clenched teeth as he stepped through his door, _I can't believe I let it get so out of hand. She's not supposed to be in control! I can't let that happen again..._

_She has to want me... I have to bide my time, and then make my move..._

_Why Bish talk of black-furred female like big, fat deer?_ Karnwyr asked Bishop, cocking his furry head to one side as he settled down on the rug beside Bishop's bed. _Bish looking for mate? I not sure black-furred female make good mate._

Bishop looked down at his animal companion as he slipped into his leathers.

_Why not?_ He sent back. _Cari's pretty enough._

_She smell like Jaral,_ Karnwyr thought, his face scrunched in displeasure, _Cat who live with elf nearby._

Bishop adjusted the worn buckles on his armor, loosening them a bit around his shoulders.

_Damn having broad shoulders. Anyway… Karnwyr, you don't like her because she smells like Sand's cat?_

_Yes, Bish, she smell like cat._ Karnwyr sniffed, as though being a cat were some dangerous, unwanted affliction.

_Did you ever stop to think she just spends a lot of time with Sand?_ Bishop replied. _I've seen him make her potions, and I know for a fact that she sneaks his ale purgatives in without Duncan knowing._

_No, I no know that,_ Karnwyr grumbled, still not liking that she smelled like cat, _But I guess that fine. She also smell like you, so I guess that fine too._

_She smells like me?_ Bishop thought, pulling the door open and ushering Karnwyr out towards the common room.

_Yes, Bish, Cari smell like you. She smell like blood and sweat and salt too._

_I smell like blood and sweat? And salt?_ He said, indignant, _I bathe, you know._

_Bish, yes, you wash, but that your scent. And she smell like you._

_Funny, I always thought she smelled like vanilla and cinnamon._

_Well, that too,_ Karnwyr thought, shaking his furry head.

Bishop sighed to himself as he walked back to the common room, and he rolled his eyes as he spotted Grobnar gleefully bouncing in place, crossbow in one hand and an apple in the other, singing a song about Whitethistle.

_Oh, lovely,_ he thought sarcastically, _This bodes well for the trip..._

_I can't wait._


	4. Talks and Whiskey

**Author's note:** I imagine being on the road might get pretty boring, judging by my own experiences with camping. So, the game's supposed to be a silly, funny way to pass the time, if not a bit childish. So, please, laugh it up! Enjoy! It has been fixed up a bit. Anwa and berth are Elvish words for "truth" and "dare," in case anyone was wondering…

* * *

"Lass, are ya in there?"

"It's open, Duncan."

He frowned and opened the door, spotting Cari with her foot on her chair, tightening the strap of the sheath she wore on her right thigh. She straightened up, gave him a broad smile, and pulled her hair back with a leather thong. "What's going on?"

"We need to have a talk. It's high time I talked to you about this, and it's important for you to be prepared in case this comes up."

Cari stared at him. "Uh, Duncan, just so you know, I had that talk with Daeghun about five years ago. I still remember that as being the most thoroughly awkward three hours of my life."

Duncan laughed. "No, not _that_ talk." He sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Cari, be_ careful_ on this one, all right? Especially around Bishop, watch out for him."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, sitting on her bed, "that his interests are his own, and his loyalty only lasts as long as his debt, or _your_ gold."

Cari raised an eyebrow. "Somehow, I'm not surprised. What if I could keep him around in other ways?"

Duncan frowned. "That's not good either, Cari, he's dangerous. He's always running over the Luskan border, smuggling goods, hunting things…"

"You _did_ see me pin him to a table, right? And you saw me killing githyanki about half an hour ago?"

"Cari, I know you can take care of yourself, I just… be careful, he's a wild one."

"And if I _like_ my men wild?"

"By the Hells, Cari, you don't think he'd sell you out the minute he'd get a chance?"

"Not if I sell him out first."

Duncan stared at her. "Maybe I was wrong, maybe you _can_ handle him."

"If I learned one thing from Daeghun it was how to deal with wild animals. And I'll be damned if Bishop isn't just one, big wild animal. I'll bet he lives for four things: food, water, shelter, and sex."

Duncan laughed. "Well, change 'water' to 'ale' and you've got Bishop." He smiled. "I think you'll be fine, just… still… be careful, all right? You're my kin, and I don't want to lose you."

"I'll be _fine_, Duncan, I'll have Shandra back here for you to flirt with faster than I can talk my way out of a City Watch fine," Cari said, giving her uncle a hug and grabbing her knapsack. "Besides, with the way you talk about Bishop's tracking skills we'll be there and back in no time."

Her uncle nodded and gave her one last squeeze. "All right, lass, you'd best be off, you don't want to keep Bishop waiting."

"I know. Thanks, Duncan, I'm not sure how long this will take, but we'll be safe, all right? I'll be careful."

She smiled at him and threw her knapsack over her shoulders, adjusting the scabbards holding her katanas and heading back out. She could feel Bishop's eyes on her the moment she turned the corner into the common room.

"All right, Bishop, let's go."

He nodded, his eyes hungry as they traveled over her, drinking in the leather clinging to every curve of her hips, the way the neckline cut in a deep "v" over her breasts, how the pale skin of her chest and neck shined in the early morning light.

_Oh Hells, she's mine when we get back. _He thought. _She'll be mine._

"Then let's go. Don't try anything stupid. Luskans won't hesitate to shoot you the moment they get a chance."

Cari fell into step beside Bishop, her long strides barely matching his, the top of her head bobbing alongside his shoulder.

"Is that code for 'hurl the gnome in front in case things get… complicated?'" she whispered in his ear, winking as she stood on her toes.

He chuckled and shivered slightly as her hand rested on his arm. Her black hair seemed blue in the sunrise.

_I think I'm going to enjoy this trip, _he thought, smiling to himself.

ooooo

Sometime later that evening, Cari sat on a large tree stump, massaging her temples.

_I'm thinking it _wasn't _the best idea to bring both Casavir and Bishop on this trip, _she thought, exasperated,_ I'm afraid they're going to kill each other_.

Cari and her companions were all gathered around a large campfire, Neeshka on her left and Grobnar on her right, Khelgar and Qara across from her and Casavir and Bishop on Neeshka's left and Grobnar's right, respectively. A large deer carcass lay nearby. Karnwyr nibbled on a leg as most of the remaining meat roasted over the fire.

"Are you regretting taking them both on this trip as much as I am, Cari?" Neeshka whispered.

"Are you regretting it to the point of gagging both of them and keeping them separated by at least ten feet?"

"Pretty much."

"Then yes, I regret it as much as you do."

Cari leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand, her eyes shifting back and forth from Bishop to Casavir and back again.

"Well, you're a paladin, what do _you_ know about hunting and tracking?" Bishop spat.

"I know enough to know that constant vulgarity doesn't help anything," Casavir said calmly.

"Hells, paladin, don't you have anything better to do than to lecture me on the thing I've been doing for, oh, I don't know, the last fifteen, twenty years of my life?"

She had to admit, she loved seeing the passion burning in Bishop's eyes. The firelight brought out their intense, amber color in a way that made Cari shiver in delight.

_I have to stop this, or else someone's going to end up with an arrow between the eyes. Or a sword to the head._

She straightened up, pulling the leather thong out of her hair and letting it fall loose. "I think we're all just stressed from the journey. How about we relax with a little game to pass the time, eh?"

Neeshka nodded. "Sure, a game sounds good! What kind of game? It's kind of dark, so playing anything that involves hiding wouldn't be good. Unless it's hiding valuables, then I could play really well…"

Bishop snorted. "Nice try, but I'd sooner ask Karnwyr to guard a large piece of freshly cut boar meat. What does our fair leader have in mind?"

His eyes glittered in the darkness, and the dim firelight danced off his chiseled jaw and week-old stubble. He smirked, his eyebrows raised in challenge.

Cari returned his smirk, black hair gleaming in the moonlight. "No, no hiding anything, its just a little game I used to play back in West Harbor, usually around festival time when we had nothing to do. It's called 'Anwa or Berth.'"

Neeshka grinned. "Ooh, I've played this! It's fun."

Casavir frowned. "I am not familiar with this game, how do you play?"

"Well, first, we'll need someone to start, and he or she chooses someone else in the circle, anybody, and asks that person 'anwa' or 'berth,'" Cari explained. "And that person gets to choose either or. If you choose anwa, you have to answer, _truthfully_, whatever question is asked. It's no fun if you lie."

"Same goes for berth," she continued, "If someone challenges you to do something you have to do it, no matter what it is. It can't be violent though, or anything that could cause permanent harm." She noticed that Casavir was getting increasingly uncomfortable the longer she spoke. "There is a way to avoid it all, however."

"And what would that be?" Casavir said breathlessly, hopeful that he would be getting a break.

Cari grinned evilly as she reached into her bag and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey. "You can pass on a berth, or on an anwa, but you have to take a large drink of _this_ instead." She stared at her companions, challenging them to protest. Bishop had a rather excited grin on his face.

"But, Carianna, this isn't right," Casavir said quietly, eyeing the large bottle with apprehension, "You shouldn't use alcohol like this; it's nothing to be played with."

"Ah, the lad's just scared that we'll find out he can't hold his liquor," Khelgar said happily, reaching for the bottle, "That's fine, I can hold enough for both of us."

"Oh, Khelgar, I have something special for you," Cari said, reaching in and pulling out a second bottle. "Knowing you, you'll run through this first bottle before any of us have a chance to drink. So, you have your own."

"I knew I loved ya, lass," Khelgar said, grabbing the bottle and yanking the cork out with his teeth. "Now, who should start?"

"I'm still not sure if I'm comfortable with this-"

"Oh Casavir, lighten up, you'll be fine, I promise. And besides, I have some of Duncan's ale purgative too, just in case things get out of hand."

He sighed. "All right, count me in."

Cari smiled. "Good, now, who _should _start?"

"Ooh, I'll start," Qara said deviously. "And I'll start with…_ Neeshka_. Anwa or berth?"

"Me?" Neeshka squeaked. "Why me?"

"Because I know you have no tolerance for alcohol at _all_," Qara said triumphantly. "Now come on, anwa or berth?"

"Fine, fine, anwa," Neeshka said defiantly.

"Hmm… well, have you ever stolen anything from Cari? Ever?"

Neeshka threw Cari a pleading look before speaking. "No, Qara, never, because Cari's too good a thief, she knows how to hide it. And I'm afraid that if I angered her I'd die in my sleep," she said, laughing nervously.

Cari rolled her eyes. "Neeshka, if you ever stole anything from me, I'd laugh about it and steal it back. You're my best friend, I wouldn't hurt you. If you ticked me off though, I may pull a prank on you in your sleep, but not kill you. You might wake up covered in mead or something, but not dead."

"Well, that's good to know," Neeshka said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"And what would our fair leader do to _me_ in my sleep?" Bishop said softly, leaning back on his hands and arching an eyebrow at her.

She winked. "Sorry, Bishop, but there are innocent ears here, I'd rather not sully them," she said smoothly, looking down at Grobnar.

"All right, it's my turn to choose!" Neeshka said excitedly. "Ooh, Grobnar!"

"Me?" Grobnar said incredulously. "All right, err, berth."

"Remember, you don't have to do it if you don't want to, you can always have a drink of the whiskey," Cari whispered, worried about what Neeshka was going to say.

"Aye, lad, the whiskey's just as much fun," Khelgar said, taking a large gulp and belching loudly, swaying slightly in his seat.

"Khelgar, you smelly drunk, you were supposed to wait until it was your _turn_ to drink!" Neeshka said angrily.

"Ah, but where's the fun in _that_?" he said happily, a third of the bottle already gone.

"I'm not scared!" Grobnar said defiantly. "Dare me, Neeshka!"

"All right," she said enthusiastically, an evil grin on her face, "Turn around and grab Cari's breasts."

There was a collective "_What?_" from everyone around the fire.

"You want me to, to, _touch_ Cari there?" Grobnar shrieked. "What?"

"You heard me, either grab her breasts or take a drink."

Grobnar shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Isn't there a third option?"

"I'd_ gladly_ do it if you're too _scared_, gnome," Bishop drawled, a seductive grin on his lips in an attempt to mask the anger blazing in his eyes.

"I'm _not_ scared, I just… Cari's not my lover! Or wife! I thought you're only supposed to touch _those_ if you're together!"

Neeshka rolled her eyes. "Either grab them or take a drink."

Grobnar gulped and turned to Cari, a terrified look on his face. "You know I can't hold my liquor, Cari…" he whispered.

"Grobnar, it'll be fine, just do it, and get it over with," she said in a strangled voice, "I'm not going to bite you."

"All right, I'll do it," Grobnar whispered, reaching a shaking hand out and pressing it against Cari's chest. "Oh, gods, they're so big they can't fit in my hand!"

Cari blanched as Neeshka fell over laughing at the look on Casavir's face. He was blushing so badly even his _ears_ were a brilliant crimson. Bishop leaned forward, a hungry look in his eye. "Let me see the size of your hands, gnome…"

"_No_, thank you, that's enough of _that!_" Cari shouted as Grobnar yanked his hands away, a scared grin on his face. "It's Grobnar's turn to choose."

"Err, I think it'll be Cari's turn now," he said quietly. "Anwa or berth, Cari?"

"Berth," she said, not meeting Bishop's penetrating gaze.

"Hmm… let me think," Grobnar said, tapping his finger on his chin. "Ooh, I've got it! You see, I've got this silver belly-dancer outfit that I got from a merchant in Amn, and I was wondering if you'd possibly put it on an-"

"Where's the whiskey," Cari muttered, pulling out the cork of the second bottle and taking a long draught. "Sorry, Grobnar, but no, we're in the wilderness, my armor stays on."

"Damn," Bishop said under his breath. Cari's eyes fixated on him.

_Oh, damn. Well then, fine_, Bishop thought, _do your worst._

"Bishop," Cari said quietly, "I think it's time you played our little game. Anwa or berth, take your pick."

He smirked at her, a wild light gleaming in his eyes. "Berth, of course. Do your worst."

Cari grinned. "Oh, I will, don't worry." She pouted her lips slightly and Bishop leaned forward, the wild light shining in his eyes slowly replaced by eagerness, anticipation. "You have to kiss-"

"Yes?" he said softly, shifting forward slightly in his seat, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You have to kiss… _Casavir_," she said quietly, enjoying the way the eagerness on his face was replaced with disgust.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" he said angrily. "There's no way I'm doing that!"

"What, scared?" Cari whispered as Casavir stuttered nearby.

"Not scared, just not that _type_," he spat. "Where in the Hells is that whiskey?"

Cari grinned and handed him the bottle, watching as he drained a good third of it in one gulp. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and glared at her. "You're wicked, Cari, I'll give you that."

"I know I am, but it's your turn to choose someone, Bishop," she said evilly, that feral light dancing in her eyes.

"I'm choosing _you_, fair leader," he said, smirking, "Your choice, anwa or berth?"

"Anwa, of course."

_Oh, look, there goes that smirk, _she thought, giggling to herself, _Sad_.

Bishop narrowed his eyes, his lips curling into a snarl.

_Ah, Cari, I was so looking forward to tempting you. Sadly, we'll take a different approach._

"All right, how many men have you bedded?" Bishop asked fiercely.

"Bishop, that's not a question one should ask a woman, especially in public!" Casavir said loudly, glaring at him.

"Pipe down, paladin, she can answer for herself," he said, a victorious smile on his face, "If she wants to, that is, else she could drink some more."

"Thank you, Casavir, but I have no problem answering that question. If you_ must_ know, Bishop, I can safely say that I've bedded more men than_ you_ have," she said smoothly as Neeshka burst out laughing again.

"I'm looking for a number here," he growled.

"Can he count that high?" Neeshka whispered to Cari through her giggles.

Cari rolled her eyes. "Fine, five, are you happy?"

Bishop grinned. "Yes, very."

"Good, now, it's late, let's get some rest, all right?"

_Well,_ that_ was interesting, _Cari thought, shaking her head. _Not a complete waste of time, though Daeghun was right. That game is damn childish._

She set up her bedroll next to Neeshka's, grinning as her snores broke the silence around the smoldering remnants of the campfire.

_She can fall asleep faster than any one of us. I don't know how she does it._

Bishop would be taking first shift of guard duty. As Cari drifted off to sleep she heard him scraping his dagger on a sharpening stone, and could feel his eyes on her, watching her.

_You know, some might see him watching me as creepy… _

_But I like it._


	5. Surprises and Introductions

**Author's Note: **Sadly, there's combat in this one, so it's not as much fun, but I still tried to make it entertaining! Thanks to Sticksie for all her help! I have edited this one to take out the excessive game dialogue, making it feel more my own, rather than me just repeating the game. I hope it's for the better! Enjoy!

* * *

Cari was already half-awake when she heard a branch snap nearby. She lay still, her body tense and coiled as she listened carefully to her surroundings. Neeshka's deep breaths proved to be an irritating distraction.

_We need to get a silence spell for that girl, _she thought irritably.

She could hear something moving closer. She kept her eyes shut and her body poised to strike as it came to a halt at the edge of her bedroll. She heard something swing back and she snapped her eyes open, grabbing and pulling on the foot that had just attempted to kick her in the ribs.

"Arrrgh!" a deep voice yelled, and a heavy weight landed on her chest. Cari heard Neeshka scrambling nearby, and suddenly the campsite was bathed in the bright light of a torch.

"Cari, Cari are you all right?" Neeshka said nervously, looking down at her.

"I'm fine, just, who in the Hells-" she started, "_Damn it Bishop!_"

_If this was some cheap attempt to get into my bedroll, it failed. There are easier ways to get me into bed that _don't_ include kicking me._

She looked up in the ranger's face, which was now directly above hers, an indignant sneer playing on his lips. "Damn it yourself, Cari, I was about to wake you up and tell you it's your watch."

"Use your words, not your feet," she spat, pushing on his chest, but secretly savoring the feel of his weight resting on her body. "Would you _get off?"_

_Ah, Cari, I know you like being underneath me as much as I like being on top of you. _Bishop thought to himself. _But you can't let it show, can you? Not right now._

"I rather enjoy being on top of you, Cari," Bishop whispered, smirking slightly as he straightened up. "But not like this, and not in front of all these people."

She rolled her eyes and stood up. "Of that, I am sure, Bishop. Now, why don't you get some rest? I'll take watch. You could have just asked me."

Cari jumped as Bishop's hands wrapped around her elbows and his chest pressed up against her back. She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned in.

"If I had, I wouldn't have gotten that wonderful treat, now would I?" he moaned, grazing his lips along her neck.

_I could probably kiss her now and get away with it._

She turned her head, so his lips brushed against her cheek. "You could have asked about that too," she whispered, "Perhaps I'd have said yes." She pulled away and sat down beside the campfire, her cat-like eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

_Hells, I'm such a fool, _she thought as she took out a book on armor crafting she'd borrowed from Grobnar, trying to quell the desire surging through her blood. _I could have had him._

_Maybe he'll still-_

_No. Down girl, not yet. Make him break first, not you. If you break first, he'll be gone the next morning. That's how men like him are. Make him want you. Make him break first._

_All right, you have a point. _She sighed and shivered slightly, still feeling his lips on her neck. _Still means I'm sleeping alone, though._

After watching her for a few moments, Bishop snorted and walked over to his bedroll, his heart still racing from the feel of her skin on his lips.

_So _close_, so unbelievably close, and you didn't take the chance? _He thought angrily. _What in the Hells is wrong with you? _

_I want to impress her, make her want me, make her _need_ me. And that _isn't_ going to happen in the middle of the woods with the paladin and the gnome a few feet away._

_Fine, have fun trying to sleep now._

Bishop passed into a restless slumber, the taste of her skin and the smell of her hair still tempting and taunting his senses.

ooooo

"Wait a minute," Bishop growled, holding his hand up to halt everyone behind him, "Something's wrong."

They had come to the edge of a town Bishop said was called "Ember." Cari scanned the village, but there was no sign of life. Any life. No chickens or cows, not even a stray rabbit.

She walked forward and stood beside him. "Something _is _wrong. Where is everyone?" she asked, narrowing her eyes, "Where are all the animals?"

_What is she talking about? _Bishop thought._ What animals...? Wait... Hells, she's right, _he said to himself, looking around, mildly impressed that she had noticed something that he hadn't, s_he obviously has her wits about her._

"You have a good point," he admitted, smiling slightly at her competence, "I had noticed the villagers, and that's odd enough, but no livestock?" He shook his head. "This isn't right. I do know our 'friends' have been through here though. It looks like we're finally catching up."

Cari nodded, noticing the way Bishop tightened the grip on his bow. After a brief moment of silence, she voiced the question that had been eating at her for the last few days. "Bishop?" she asked quietly, "Is it just me, or has following them been… easy?"

He thought for a moment, originally disregarding her words, but the more he pondered her question, the more he thought that she may be right.

_You know… it _has_ been awfully easy finding them. The paladin could probably do it, and that's saying something. _

_But where did she learn that? _He thought, even more impressed. _ If all her kin are like Duncan, they're all degenerate barkeeps who are too damn nosy for their own good._

_Perhaps she's actually _worth_ all the torture I'm putting myself through…_

"I think you're right. They've made no effort to cover up their tracks," he murmured, smirking, "You seem to know your way around out here. Are you sure you're Duncan's niece? He can't follow a trail unless it's a drizzled trail of alcohol."

"My father is a ranger, Bishop. I didn't spend nineteen years under his roof just sitting around."

_If you're impressed, just say it, _she thought, _don't insult Duncan just because you can._

_Wait a minute, what am I _saying? _I've endured two days of nothing but paladin jokes and comments about Bishop needing a bath._

"Your father is a ranger, is he?" Bishop sniffed, slightly surprised. Cari nodded. "Interesting. In any case, keep an eye out. I have a feeling that they _want _us to find them. I smell an ambush."

Not two seconds after Bishop mentioned an ambush did a swarm of githyanki come pouring out of the houses.

"Ah, I _hate _being right all the time," he said sarcastically.

"Just shut up and kill them!" Cari yelled, thrusting her swords into a nearby gith.

"I will if _you_ stop barking orders!" he spat, shooting another gith in the head.

"Fine, whatever, sorry, just shoot!" she screamed, running forward and plunging her weapons deep into the chest of yet another one.

It wasn't long before all the githyanki lay dead, and Cari and her companions stood grouped around the well in the middle of town.

Bishop snorted. "Not a half-bad ambush. Could have been better on their part, but I suppose that's lucky for us. I have a feeling that it's not over-" He stopped suddenly, looking off into the distance. "Figures. Reinforcements. Let's kill 'em."

Cari spun around, her long ponytail whipping Khelgar in the face as she sprinted off.

"Lass, I'm cutting yer hair the minute we get back to Neverwinter!" he shouted, swinging his axe wildly at the new invaders.

"You cut my hair, I cut your beard!" Cari cried, ducking the bolts from a githyanki crossbow.

"Now _that's _a wee bit below the belt, lass," Khelgar said angrily, his axe making a sickening _thunk_ on the skull of a downed gith. He ducked as a gith wizard shot a spell over his head, leaving a wide-open path to Neeshka.

Neeshka screamed as she was hit with the spell, and Cari cried out as she crumpled in a heap at Qara's feet. The sorceress snarled and let loose one of her fireballs, incinerating the wizard instantly. Casavir drove his sword into the chest of another githyanki and ran to Neeshka's side, concentrating on healing her.

An arrow whizzed by Cari's head and she turned to see Bishop nock another one and let it fly, it finding its mark in the neck of the gith with the crossbow. She smiled and ran to attack the final githyanki as Bishop grinned triumphantly, stringing another arrow. The gith fell to its knees, its crossbow still held high.

A cruel smile crossed the green, sunken face of the dying githyanki. It loaded a bolt and shot it, sinking it deep into Bishop's shoulder as it fell backwards, dead. The ranger bellowed in pain and Cari spun around again, nearly knocking Grobnar to the ground.

"My, Mistress Carianna, you need to be more careful!" Grobnar said, staggering slightly as she slashed the throat of the last githyanki and ran over to Bishop, blood staining his leather armor.

"Good," he said, wincing, "I've been looking for an excuse to get new leathers anyway."

Cari rolled her eyes. "Are you all right?" she asked, showing more concern than she meant to, "Are you well enough to move?"

He gave her a look. "It's a crossbow bolt, not a dire bear tooth lodged in my neck. I'll be fine until we make camp."

She sighed. "All right, just let me look at it when we rest. Can't have my best archer out with an injury, you know."

_I really can't afford to have him crippled; _she thought to herself, _I need him around._

"Of that, I'm sure," Bishop growled, standing up and holding his injured shoulder. "There were a lot of them here. Luckily for us, it means that it'll be easier when we finally catch up to them. Less resistance."

Cari looked around at her companions. Qara, Khelgar and Grobnar were uninjured, and Casavir only mildly so, but to see him carrying the limp form of Neeshka in his arms made her heart wrench.

"I'm glad that we'll face fewer warriors," Cari said, tearing her eyes away from Neeshka, whose tail dangled from Casavir's grip, "But doesn't that mean that the remaining forces will travel faster? And they'll be careful about leaving a trail this time?"

Bishop nodded. "She's right, we need to get moving, or we'll lose the damn farmgirl's trail," he grimaced, hitching his bow over his uninjured shoulder. "We need to make more progress before we make camp-"

"Pardon me," interrupted a timid-looking blonde woman, fearfully stepping out of the shadows, "But you mentioned you were tracking someone - a farmgirl. Do you mean Shandra Jerro?"

"Yes, we're following her," Cari snapped, "And the longer we talk, the farther away she gets, so unless you have more to say, get out of our way."

_Yeah, thanks for letting the gith take over your homes and ambush us. If Neeshka dies, I swear…_

"Those things… they had her!" the woman said fearfully, "We-I didn't know what to do! Shandra comes through here every harvest season. I heard her screaming, and then those things forced us to give up our homes… Oh, please, forgive me, where are my manners? I am Alaine."

_You've got to be kidding me. _Cari thought to herself. _The moron is introducing herself. I've got githyanki carrying off Shandra, a ranger bleeding from an arrow wound on my right, Casavir's carrying the limp body of my best friend on my left, and she's _introducing herself?

"And you are?" Alaine prompted, backing away slightly at the look on Cari's face.

"Not in a good mood," Cari said dangerously. Bishop chuckled as Alaine struggled to regain her composure, obviously just as frightened of Cari as she was the githyanki.

"I saw them not too long ago. They don't have much ground on you. You-you should be able to catch them," Alaine said timidly, "And thank you for saving us, I can't thank-"

"You have already done enough by letting them ambush us," Cari snarled, stomping away, "Now get out of our way!"

"You should listen to our fair leader, she's got a point," Bishop growled, holding his shoulder and following Cari, "Next time, fight, girl, or next time, you'll die. If you don't, you didn't deserve it in the first place."

"I would never let that happen, ranger," Casavir said calmly, "Sometimes others require aid. It is a duty and a kindness to lend what aid we can."

Cari spun around and glared at him. "Would you _stop that?_ Cyric's blood, you're carrying my best friend right now, could you find something more productive to do than to undermine me?"

Casavir snorted, and then sighed. "You have a point. Perhaps I am undermining your leadership."

"Yeah, you are, so can we keep moving?" Cari barked, "And would you pull that greatsword out of your behind? You're starting to make everyone else around you tense."

"Obviously," Casavir muttered, chuckling as Cari threw her hands up in frustration. "But perhaps everyone would be happier if you didn't take your bad mood out on the rest of us. Makes _me _tense."

_So, now the paladin decides to get a sense of humor._

_Well, better late than never, I suppose._


	6. Bolts and Spiders

**Author's note:** This is mainly some sexual tension between Cari and Bishop, and some plot advancement. Enjoy! This has been updated as well, to take out and alter some of the excessive game lines, and to add a bit more to the tension. I did keep the bit with the githyanki priest the same, just because I didn't have the heart to change it, it's so hilarious as it is! I hope it was worth it...

* * *

"Would you let me heal that for you, Bishop?" Casavir asked, exasperated.

"Casavir, I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of searing hot wax, thank you," Bishop said sarcastically.

"I could arrange that, you know."

"Oh ha-ha, paladin, you're so funny. Did that sense of humor come with your vows to Tyr?"

Cari shook her head as she looked down at Neeshka. She was breathing normally and her color was good, but she was still weak from the effects of the spell. Cari's ears perked up as heard the distinct sound of footsteps crashing through the overgrowth back to the campfire.

_Three, two, one…_

"That man is the most insufferable, unpleasant, egotistical jackass I've ever had the misfortune to have stumbled upon!" Casavir yelled, throwing his arms into the air, "You talk to him, the longer I do the more likely I am to stab him. I'm going to bed," he said, dropping down on his bedroll and pulling the blanket up to his neck, seething.

"Of course, you get your beauty rest," Cari said sarcastically, grabbing a healing kit and ducking as Casavir threw a sock at her head. She smirked to herself as she walked over to where Bishop sat, gingerly touching the bolt that protruded from his shoulder.

"Oh, did the paladin send in reinforcements?" Bishop growled as Cari sat down next to him.

"If by reinforcements, you mean _me_, then yes," Cari said smoothly. "Now, how's that wound of yours?"

"Tender," he said painfully, "We need to get this out, because I think I'm reacting to the wood."

"I wouldn't be surprised. Can you get your armor off?"

Bishop nodded. "Not without help though," he said, grinning wolfishly.

Cari's lips twitched into a smile. "Alright, let's get this off of you." She and Bishop clumsily worked on the buckles of his leathers, the dim light from the moon and the nearby fire doing little to aid their work. After nearly half a candle they had managed to get his shoulderguards off and Cari sat back on her heels, recognizing defeat. She brushed her long hair off her face.

"This isn't working," she said, examining the buckles on his breastplate, "Let me work alone, I'll finish up."

"A beautiful woman undressing me?" Bishop said seductively, straightening up and slowly pulling his shoulders back, "What's not to like?"

Cari went to work on his buckles, very much aware of the way Bishop was watching her, desire burning in his eyes as she touched his body.

_I hope to Cyric he can't tell how nervous I am right now, _she thought anxiously.

Her heart raced as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingering the remaining buckles on his back. She suppressed a shiver as his stubble scraped against her skin. She reached further down and jumped as his good arm wrapped around her waist and nuzzled his cheek against her neck.

_Hells, Bishop, you've got an arrow in your shoulder, and everyone's camped ten feet away. Not right now._

_Stop teasing me! Or I'll return it, damn it!_

Finally loosening the last buckle, Cari slowly pulled the leather away from Bishop's chest, easing it carefully over the bolt. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that he didn't wear anything under his armor, but less pleasantly surprised to see that it wasn't a clean through-and-through: the arrowhead was embedded in his shoulder.

"It didn't poke through the other side, Bishop, what-"

"Push it through," he growled.

"What?"

"You'll have to push it through, or else the head will cause more damage on its way out."

"I know, but isn't there any-"

"Push. It. Through."

Cari winced as she looked at the wound. She bit her lip and loosened the strap on her thigh that held the sheath for her dagger.

"Bite on this," she said quietly, holding up the piece of leather. "I don't want you cracking your teeth."

"Ah, you _do_ care. Give it here," he said, taking it from her. "Break off the tail, then put one hand on my chest and push on the bolt. It'll go through. Then pull it out."

Cari nodded as Bishop bit down on the leather strap. She carefully snapped the tail off the bolt and threw it aside. She leaned forward on her knees and gently pressed a hand against his chest, smiling to herself as his soft hair tickled her fingers. She could feel his heartbeat racing against her fingertips.

She gritted her teeth as she pressed her other hand to the now-splintered end of the bolt. "Ready?" she whispered. Bishop nodded, his jaw muscles clenched around the leather strap. "Three, two, one," she said quietly, grimacing as she pushed hard, forcing the bolt through his shoulder.

_HELLSHELLSHELLS! Ouch, ouch, OW, ouch, ouch… HELLS THAT HURTS!!_

The strap muffled Bishop's scream. His back arched in pain as Cari reached around and pulled the bolt out. She tossed it into the darkness and grabbed her healing kit.

"Here, drink this," she muttered, handing him a healing potion as she quickly wrapped a bandage around his shoulder in an attempt to staunch the bleeding.

Bishop spat out the leather strap and downed the potion in one gulp, spluttering as he swallowed. "Hells, woman! That tasted _awful_. Did Duncan make that?"

Cari laughed as she tied the bandage tight, returning her hand to his chest so she could check the linen's durability. "You really should let Casavir look at this in the morning, he's a much better healer than I am and you're too good an archer for me to lose."

_Aw, a compliment, _he thought to himself, _how sweet._

Bishop rolled his eyes and looked at his shoulder. "I know, I probably will. I just didn't want the paladin touching my chest," he smirked. Cari gasped as he grabbed her wrist. "And you haven't let me thank you yet," he said suggestively, slowly pulling her hand down his chest, trailing her fingernails along his stomach.

She leaned in as he guided her hand to the waistband of his trousers and eased her fingertips under the fabric. "And how do you intend to thank me?" she breathed, her hair brushing his skin as she pressed her other hand against the powerful muscles of his chest.

"It depends," he said softly, leaning forward, their lips barely an inch apart, "What do _you_ want?" She could see the longing blazing in his wolfish eyes.

_Oh, Bishop, I know you'd like to thank me this way, but not yet. You're not getting me yet, especially not in the woods._

_Though you're certainly tempting me…_ she thought, smiling to herself.

_Maybe…_

Smiling evilly, she stroked the waistband, letting her fingers travel farther down before hesitating. She brushed something thick and warm, and he groaned softly as she felt him stir. Her smile widened.

"What_ I_ want is-"

"_Cari? Cari, where are you?_"

She groaned as Bishop let go of her wrist and smacked his forehead.

_Well, that worked too, I guess. The gnome is a form of birth control._

"I'm over here, Grobnar, what's the matter?"

The gnome came crashing through the underbrush, his arms flailing wildly. He stopped dead at the sight of Cari leaning over a half-naked Bishop.

"My, did I interrupt the human mating ritual?"

Bishop let out a low growl as Cari rolled her eyes. "No, Grobnar, it's fine, I was helping Bishop with his wound. What's the matter?"

"There's a spider! A _big_ one!" he said, his eyes wide and fearful.

"You've taken on orcs and goblins before, and _now_ you're afraid of a spider?"

"The orcs and goblins weren't in my bedroll, Cari, you know how I am about things in my bedroll!"

"And you couldn't get Casavir or Khelgar because…?"

"You know how hard they are to wake up, Cari! Please, come kill it, I'm scared."

"Even the _gnome_ has something sharing his bedroll," Bishop muttered, glaring at him.

"Please, Cari, I'm scared!"

"Fine, fine, I'll go take care of it, I need some rest anyway. It's Casavir's turn for the watch," Cari said, sighing. "You'll be fine, right, Bishop?"

"In some ways," he growled, throwing the gnome a dirty look as he leaned back, pulling his blanket over him.

Cari smirked. "You'll be fine, I'm sure. Now, where's this spider?"

Grobnar grabbed her hand and led her back to the campfire. "It's over here, it's _huge!_"

Bishop rolled his eyes as he drifted off to sleep, the pain in his shoulder a dull ache.

_So close! So gods-damned close! She was touching me, by the Hells!_

_I'm thinking the gnome should join me for some target practice, _he thought bitterly, remembering the way her skin felt against his chest, _I prefer chasing live targets anyway…_

ooooo

_Oh, Cyric's blood, _Cari thought irritably, _Don't these gith have something _better _to do?_

"All right," she muttered under her breath, "Who saw this coming?"

"Me," Bishop and Neeshka whispered.

They had finally made it up to the githyanki base, fighting their way past patrols and scouts and other annoyances, only to be stopped at the entrance by a priest who enjoyed hearing herself talk. She 'claimed' it was because it sweetened the taste of their deaths, but Cari knew she was just a gigantic windbag with a nice katana.

As Cari looked at the gith surrounding her, she noticed that they were predominantly male, save for the priest.

_Actually, most of the githyanki I've met are male, I wonder why that is..._

"Fine, since I can ask you questions, I've got one for you: why are all the githyanki I've seen men?"

The priest snorted, or did something Cari assumed to be a snort. "Githyanki men typically serve the Lich Queen from the Astral home. Most males are too weak in their mental disciplines to be proper leaders or warriors."

"She may be evil, but she is _so_ right," Neeshka whispered. Cari was just thrilled that Neeshka had recovered. Granted, she was still a little shaky, but a good night's rest seemed to do wonders.

"Tell me about it," Qara muttered as Cari giggled.

"Why, I've never observed that… have I?" Grobnar asked, rather oblivious as Khelgar muttered something that sounded like a mix of dwarven obscenities and battle-cries.

"Well, I say we put that theory to the test…_ right now_," Bishop snarled, fingering the string on his bow.

Cari shook her head. "Men have their…_ uses_," she said smoothly, grinning slightly as the men in her party threw her dirty looks, save for Grobnar.

"Yes, they do. I have been away from the Astral home for some time and have not… _indulged myself_." Cari had a split second to wipe the look of disgust off her face before the priest spoke again. "Perhaps your human servant, the tall, dark one will suffice. Give him over to me willingly, and I can offer you a faster, painless death," she said, pointing at Bishop.

"You couldn't _possibly _pay me enough," Bishop spat, glaring at Cari, "And even if you could, I'd need a few _kegs_ of Duncan's ale first,"

_She'd better not be thinking what I hope she's not thinking, no way, no way in the Hells…_ his mind screamed, _I know I'm guilty of bedding an ugly wench after a night of heavy drinking, but I don't go for green and splotchy._

"You're not taking Bishop," Cari said firmly, stepping in front of him, her grip tight on her swords.

Bishop grimaced. "Glad we understand each other. I'll _never_ be that desperate," he paused for a moment, thinking. "And if I am, go ahead and kill me."

"I'd be happy to," Casavir muttered, smirking at Bishop.

"Ah, so the Kalach-Cha has a _reason_ for keeping this human servant around. Is this the mate of the Kalach-Cha? If so, kill him now, kill him slowly, as she watches."

"You know, I'm not entirely sure that's going to work," Cari said lightly, drawing her steel, "Because if you touch _him_ or any one of my companions, you're going to find yourselves on the wrong end of a sword."

The priest sneered. "I've lost interest in speaking with you, Kalach-Cha. Slay the _Kalach-Cha_, for Zeeaire!"

"You know, it would be nice to just _talk_ to them for once, instead of slaughtering them all the time," Cari said sarcastically as she lunged for the priest.

"Aye, lass, but where's the fun in that?" Khelgar yelled, diving headlong into battle.

"Oh Khelgar..." Cari muttered, shaking her head.

ooooo

"Ignore the words of this criminal! They are deceptions…"

_If I had a gold piece for every time I heard that, well…_

"…she seeks to manipulate you, as our illithid masters once did! Do not allow it!"

Bishop leaned in and Cari shivered as his lips brushed against her ear. "Looks like she lost some face, I think we can safely count on some deflections in case things turn nasty."

She nodded before turning back to Zeeaire. "Listen, I've listened to you ramble now for a good five minutes. I'm ready to face whatever punishment you have for me."

She pretended to listen as Zeeaire attempted to scare her with talk of "dying and being brought back to life and killed again," and Cari rolled her eyes.

"Then take me to the Lich Queen, I'll kill her too," she said lazily, keeping an eye on Shandra in the corner.

_If I can distract Zeeaire enough, I can use that stone I got from Mephasm and break that portal, and maybe Shandra can get to safety…_

"I am prepared to offer a swift, painless death for you and your companions," Zeeaire spat, "If you will but freely hand over the shards you have taken."

"Funny," Cari snarled, "Because I was about to offer you the same thing." She frowned as Zeeaire laughed and held out her shriveled hand.

"Do you _really _think you can keep such powerful relics of my people?" Zeeaire said quietly as the shards danced in mid-air in front of Cari. "They do not belong to you. They are _ours. _But… odd, I have all the ones you carry, yet it seems you still possess one…"

_What in the nine Hells…?_

Zeeaire threw her arms up in the air and Cari screamed.

_Ohgodohgodohgod, that hurts, that hurts, that HURTS!_

Her back arched in pain as she was lifted up off the ground, a dull glow emanating from the scar above her left breast.

"You have a piece of the sword inside you," Zeeaire said quietly, pointing at Cari's chest. Cari clenched her jaw as pain seared through her once more; her feet now far off the ground. Her companions gathered around her as she screamed, in a misture of pain and disgust as she felt the shard pushing against her skin.

"And I shall take it from you, by _force!_" Zeeaire shrieked, dropping Cari and grabbing her greatsword. "_Attack!_"

Some of the nearby gith lunged for Cari and her companions, some stayed back. "Bishop, here!" Cari yelled, tossing him the stone Mephasm had left behind.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he shouted, looking down at the stone, confused.

"Sir Bishop, just throw it at the portal! It'll work, I promise!" Grobnar yelled as he ran around the githyanki's legs, trying to get out a song.

"You'd better hope so, gnome," Bishop muttered, hurling the stone at Zeeaire.

The sword-stalker shrieked as her portal disintegrated around her. "No, the portal… I must kill you quickly, for every moment on this plane will pass like a year!" she screamed, lunging at Cari.

But Cari was ready. She blocked the blow from the other woman's greatsword and swung around, plunging her swords into Zeeaire's neck.

With her portal destroyed, it didn't take long for Cari and her companions to overpower Zeeaire and her githyanki. Soon, Zeeaire lay dying at Cari's feet, her hands clutching the fatal wound in her side.

"You, you think this is over? You are wrong, Kalach-Cha, and I hope the pain you have brought here today is revisited upon you a thousand-fold. You will now face this greater threat, this King of Shadows, alone."

"We could have worked it out, done something, but you kept trying to _kill me!_" Cari said indignantly.

Zeeaire chuckled feebly as blood dripped from her mouth. "I will see you in death, Kalach-Cha, and I do not think I will have to wait long."

The sword-stalker collapsed, and the shards she had taken from Cari fell out of her bag.

"We could have worked it out, you know," Cari whispered, bending down and picking up the shards, "You're just lucky I didn't snap your neck instead."

"Oi, Cari! I got Shandra out!" Neeshka yelled as she helped Shandra up. Cari and the rest of her companions strode over to them.

"I am getting _so _sick and tired of you rescuing me," Shandra whined, brushing dirt off her trousers, "Just give me the chance to rescue you, so I can finally pay you back."

"Oh, don't worry, girl, you'll have _plenty _of time to pay us back," Bishop said suggestively, testing Cari's jealousy "Over and over again, judging by how far we've had to go to rescue you." Cari glared at him.

_I'm not liking your tone, ranger_, she thought to herself.

"You all _put_ me in danger!" Shandra said defiantly, "I'm not paying you one single coin!"

"Then you'll be paying me another way," Bishop said smoothly, his eyes traveling up and down Shandra's body, "My bedroll's a little cold at night, I'm thinking you can fix that."

Cari barely suppressed the urge to punch his smug, gloating face.

_Oh, no, no, no, that just won't do, bad idea._

_That bastard, after what happened between us... I can't believe I almost gave in!  
_

_Fine! He can do whatever he wants, I don't care!_

"How about I light you on fire, Bishop? That'd solve _two_ problems," Neeshka said excitedly, giving Cari a sly pat on the back.

"And how about you watch your tongue before I _cut_ it out, Bishop?" Cari snarled, smirking.

_Ah... Cari's jealous. Perfect. Just what I wanted..._

"Jealousy's _thick_ in this little band, I see. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about _your_ pretty face, fair leader," Bishop taunted, bowing slightly, a predatory smile on his face, "Perhaps you'd be willing to make a better offer?"

_Jackass, utter and absolute jackass. And I thought _I_ was bad._

"I won't have you speaking to her or anyone else that way, Bishop," Casavir growled, "Unless you want to find yourself on the wrong end of a sword."

"Oh, really, what a surprise. How would you feel if I left you here in Luskan territory with your righteousness to keep you company?" Bishop said coldly, "I'm just thinking you haven't gotten any in a while, maybe _you_ should bed the farm girl instead."

"First off, don't talk about Shandra that way," Casavir spat, glaring at Bishop, "Secondly, shut up before I kill you."

"Will you two quit it?" Cari moaned. "Now, I really have no desire to examine these Illefarn frescoes before we leave, so can we just _go?_"

_I swear, it's like keeping an eye on a couple of drunken toddlers! _Cari thought angrily. _You don't know what's going to come out of their mouths! _


	7. Daggers and Mead

**Author's note**: There is a scene of sexuality in this chapter, but I tried to do it tastefully. It has been updated, to make it more adult, so I hope you enjoy it! A warning for some language

* * *

_How could Daeghun have lied to me like that? Not telling me I had part of a broken githyanki sword inside me is kind of a big issue to hide from me._

Cari had a lot on her mind. Not only had she found out, only _after_ she and her companions had been through the Hells and back, that her father and uncle had been lying to her since the beginning, but she really didn't like how Bishop was looking at Shandra. She feared that she had waited too long. Cari knew Shandra was older than she was, but the farmgirl was just as attractive, if not more so, and it made her seethe with jealousy.

_Fine, Bishop, you want to bed the farm girl, do it! But you _won't_ be sleeping with me._

She sighed and slipped into her nightgown, watching her reflection nervously comb its hair in the mirror, trying desperately to get her mind off of what had happened at the hideout. After a few restless strokes she set down the brush and sighed again, strapped her dagger to her thigh and sneaked out the door.

_Well, at least the common room should be empty by now, _she thought,_ maybe I can nip into the Harvest Mead Duncan has hidden for me._

_Maybe he'll be there... Then I can get him before Shandra..._

_No. Don't think about that._

_Still..._

The common room was dark. Cari lit a candle, carried it to the bar, and rummaged around underneath the counter. The dim light from the candle gave her little aid. Grunting in frustration, she finally pulled out a dusty, honey-colored bottle and tugged the cork out with her teeth.

_Thank Cyric for Duncan, _she thought to herself as she took a long draught, draining nearly half of the mead from the bottle.

"You know," a voice drawled from the shadows, "You shouldn't drink alone. It speaks of problems."

_Oh, Gods, I knew it..._

"My only problem, Bishop, is _you,_" Cari spat, slamming the bottle down on the bar and crossing her arms over her chest, "You and the _farmgirl_."

"You shouldn't do that, fair leader," he chided, stepping out into the light, "It might break the bottle."

Cari eyed him closely, drinking in his tall, muscular build, the way the thin tunic he wore stretched slightly over his broad shoulders as he matched her stance.

_Gods, he's handsome... and that powerful body..._

_I don't know how much more of this I can take..._

_Remember the farmgirl?_

_Oh, right... I don't want to be his second choice..._

"What do you want, Bishop?" she said sourly, leaning back against the bar, having to tilt her head back to look into his face. The top of her head barely reached his chin.

_Good, _he thought, quickly scanning the room, _she's alone. _

_I've waited too long for this..._

"Just to talk," he purred, propping an elbow on the counter and giving her an appraising look, "You've been a little irritable since our return from the hideout. Why is that?" He reached out and swept her hair back, exposing the thin straps of her nightgown. Taking a step closer to her, he boldly took one strap between his fingers, waiting to see what she would do. When she didn't pull away, his fingers worked their way up her neck. "What's on that pretty little mind of yours, fair leader?"

_Besides me, _he thought, raking her body with his eyes, his thoughts already clouded with fantasies of what he hoped was to come, _what I wouldn't do to have that nightgown on the floor right now..._

"It couldn't be that I just found out I have a piece of a sword embedded in my chest now, could it?" she said sardonically, taking a sharp breath through her nose as she stepped backward, pulling her neck out of reach. "Or have I not convinced you?" She didn't want him to know how fast her heart was beating, how her skin burned where he had touched her...

How badly she wanted more...

Bishop smirked and leaned forward, bathing his face in the light from the candle. His eyes seemed to glow an unearthly yellow in the dim light. "I thought you could handle that," he murmured, stepping away from the bar, keeping his eyes fixated on hers, "I think there's something _else_ you can't handle. Something more... personal."

"Like what?" Cari said, narrowing her eyes. She followed his movements, her body instinctively tense, more from anticipation than anything else. "Care to elaborate?"

"You can't handle the way I talked to Shandra, can you?" he breathed, padding around her in a half-circle, like a wolf cornering its prey, "Jealous, are we?"

"I've _handled_ more than _you_," she scoffed, standing her ground, part of her hoping, begging for him to touch her again, "And they never mentioned _farmgirls_."

Bishop's hands closed around her arms, and he let out a low sigh as his fingertips savored the softness of her skin. "Then why are the sultry looks suddenly so icy?" He released one arm long enough to push her hair aside, and then he leaned in, breathing in deeply as he trailed his lips up the side of her neck. "You smell like cinnamon. It's... enticing."

Cari only just managed to stifle a throaty groan. It had been too long since a man had touched her like that, and Bishop...

_Gods, he knows what he's doing... _she thought, desire surging through her in a way she hadn't felt in months, _Hells..._

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied quietly, her voice a little breathless as his hips were suddenly against hers, "I assure you."

He leaned in closer, his lips just behind her ear. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he breathed, slowly sliding his hands down her arms, "You know about the looks we gave each other. You know about the way we 'accidentally' touch each other. You know how it feels to have your body, your skin against mine." He paused, gently weaving his fingers with hers. "You even know how I propositioned Shandra…"

_Wha-? _

_What? _

Her mind cleared suddenly with an unpleasant jolt.

_How-how dare he mention her?_

_That bastard!_

"I know you're a pig!" she snarled, pulling away, furious and jealous of his mention of Shandra, the kindled flame blazing inside her suddenly doused, "If you want to talk about her, you can leave!"

Startled, Bishop threw his hands in the air. This was not how he had intended things to go. Not tonight.

"And you're an ice queen!" he sneered, taken aback and frustrated by her outburst, "How hard _did_ Martin have to chip at you to get between those beautiful legs of yours?"

"Martin is none of your business, Bishop," Cari spat, her eyes blazing, wondering how he even _knew_ about the cleric, "Nor is what he and I did in bed. Drop it."

"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" he said sarcastically, a slight jealousy flaring inside him at the mention of Cari bedding Martin, "Maybe you should work on that. I'm sure your problems tend to make you _useless_ in battle."

Cari smiled cruelly. "Speaking of problems…" she said smoothly, breathing hard, her blood up, "What's the problem you have with my uncle, exactly?"

"Any problems I have with your _dear _uncle Duncan are my business and _my_ business alone," he snarled, his amber eyes watching her closely, "So, like you said, _drop _it."

"Ah, exactly. He _is_ my uncle, you see, and any problems you have with him… well…" she shrugged, knowing she was pushing him, "And then there's Luskan…"

"Shut up," he muttered, eyes alight with anger, furious that she was getting under his skin, "Shut it."

"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" she mocked, turning his own words back on him, "Maybe you should _work_ on that. Your problems do tend to make you _useless_ in battle too."

"You little bitch," he growled, lunging for her. She easily sidestepped him, causing him to crash into the bar. "Now, now, Bishop," she taunted, laughing softly as she drew her dagger from its sheath, "I think you can do better than _that_."

"Pulling weapons are we?" he hissed, smirking, part of him intrigued by their little game, "So be it."

Bishop dived for her again, but she was too fast for him; she slashed at him and caught his cheek as he straightened up. He touched his face, shocked at the blood shining black on his fingers.

_I think we're done with this, _he thought, his cheek stinging slightly, _she's had her fun, now it's time for mine..._

"All right, no more," he snarled, charging her once again. Like earlier, she dodged him, but this time he was ready for it, and he moved with her, using his long arms to grab her around the waist. Cari gasped as she was suddenly lifted from the floor and slammed onto the table behind her. Bishop straddled her, grabbed her wrists and yanked them over her head. The dagger clattered as it fell uselessly to the floor.

"And what, _exactly, _were you hoping to accomplish? You thought you could overpower _me?_" he asked softly, smiling triumphantly as he looked down at her, her body wriggling beneath his, the sensation making him shiver, "I knew you'd _try_, of course, but I didn't think it would be quite this easy to pin you." He leaned in, his eyes narrowed, the earlier irritation having quickly ebbed away, replaced by a hunger that stirred within him at the sight of her stretched out helpless beneath him, her long hair falling freely about her face, making her look wild, fierce, and untamed.

_Hells, her body's warm, _he thought, his mind slightly hazy, trying and failing to get his body under control as he felt his manhood swell and push against his trews, _Gods, I want to touch her... feel her... taste her..._

"I-I…" she stammered, her throat suddenly dry as her eyes fell below his belt, to where his growing hardness strained against his trousers. She was having trouble thinking clearly, her desires suddenly threatening to overwhelm her, any earlier animosity quickly forgotten. Looking at him now, she could tell that he lusted for _her, _not Shandra.

_Oh gods, _she thought frantically, _what do I _do?

_Kiss… him… Cari… you damned fool! This is your chance! It's either you, or the farmgirl!_

_Do it!_

"I-" she began again, her eyes drifting down the line of his powerful body as his gaze followed the gentle rise and fall of her breasts beneath her nightgown, "Umm..." She looked up at him, her resistance battling against her desires. Her desires won.

_Oh... Oh, Gods, enough. Enough of this. _

_I want him. _

_Now._

She reached up and nipped gently at his lower lip. "That," she managed, flicking his upper lip with her tongue. She pulled away, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes, her breaths already shallow and sharp as she waited for him, her skin flushed with excitement, her body nearly screaming for him.

His lips trembling slightly from sheer desire, he leaned in and grazed them over hers, and then lightly trailed the tip of his tongue over the path his kiss had just blazed. "Oh, that…" he whispered, barely suppressing a moan as the bulge in his pants pressed against her hip, "Is that all?"

"Yes, that," she breathed, sliding her legs around him and hooking her ankles together behind his back. She pressed a burning cheek against his, whimpering softly at the feel of his week-old stubble tickling her skin. "And more..."

"Well, then," he groaned, releasing her wrists so he could run his hands down her soft arms, his breath coming in deep gasps, "You want more?" he challenged, again taking the straps of her nightgown between his fingers. She nodded slowly, sighing softly as he eased the thin cloth off her shoulders and down her arms, baring the soft, pale flesh of her breasts. Her breaths suddenly quickened as he cupped the heavy mounds, and she gasped as he lightly rubbed her nipples with his thumbs, teasing them into hard, rosy peaks. "You like that?" he breathed, his voice unusually hoarse as he circled her nipples with his forefingers, "Say it."

_Say it, Cari, _he murmured to himself, his arousal now painfully hard, _Say that you want me. Say it, and I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before._

_Just say it..._

She squirmed beneath him, the pleasant heat inside her building with every stroke of his fingertips. "Yes," she sighed, arching her back to brush her sensitive nipples against his fingers, instinctively grinding her hips against him. Her fingers fumbled along his stomach for a moment, until she found the waistband of his trousers. "Take me," she whispered huskily, pulling on his belt, gently caressing his aroused flesh through his pants, "Make me scream."

_Good... _he thought, shuddering at the pleasurable sensation of her fingers stroking his manhood, _no more of this..._

_She's mine..._

With a low groan, he wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hand cupping the back of her neck as he claimed her lips, his heart racing as he felt her fingers scratching at his back, tugging on his shirt, as though desperate to feel his skin. It was as if a dam burst between them: all the building frustration and tension between them shattered as he delved into her mouth, his kisses savage and hungry, hers intense and intoxicating. She tightened her legs around his waist as his hands slid up under the thin silk of her nightgown. He paused as she shifted her hips up, and she gave him a devious smile as his exploring fingers found nothing but bare skin. "You're not wearing smallclothes," he growled, moaning softly at the feel of her moist warmth pressing against him. He suddenly felt as though the fabric separating them was miles too wide. "You knew."

"I hoped," she whispered in reply, her breaths short and broken as she pressed her knees urgently against his sides, "But enough talk. My room."

"Anything for my fair leader," Bishop said, his biting sarcasm returning, if only for a brief moment. Gripping her tightly, he stood up, Cari's small frame effortlessly supported by his powerful arms, their lips still fused together, their tongues dancing with each other as they made their way to her room, hands and lips working all over the other's body. He kicked the door open, strode over and half-set, half-dropped her onto her bed. She propped herself up on her elbows, her eyebrows raised in interest as he stalked over and quickly locked the door.

"What's that for?" she inquired, smiling darkly, yet eagerly as he yanked his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular planes of his chest and stomach, the soft, dark, curly hair a sharp contrast to the smooth scars adorning his skin. She gasped as he dropped onto the bed beside her and wrapped his arms around her, forcing her body against his.

Smirking, he tangled his fingers in her long hair and drew her into another passionate, devastating kiss. "No gnomish interruptions this time."

--

Some time later in the evening, Cari closed her eyes and sighed, content and sated, gently running her fingernails up Bishop's sweat-soaked back as he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her neck, gasping for breath.

"So," she said playfully, gently nibbling and suckling on his earlobe, "I take it you enjoyed it?" He let out a long, shuddering moan, and she giggled, still giddy and slightly delirious from her own pleasure. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

Bishop struggled up onto his forearms, his manhood still buried deep inside her. "Yes," he whispered, his breathing still labored, "Gods, woman, you are _insatiable_."

Smiling slightly, she reached up and gently ran her fingers through his sweaty fringe. "Only if it's good," she said slyly, tilting her chin up to kiss him softly.

He arched an eyebrow at her and chuckled, his mind finally clearing, silently savoring both the stroke to his ego and the deep satisfaction washing over him. "So," he groaned, at last pulling himself out of her and rolling over on his back, sweat glistening on his chest, "I should take it as a compliment, then?"

Cari rolled over on her side to face him. She didn't move closer, unsure of whether he would want her to hold him afterwards. "You should," she said quietly, hesitantly reaching out to touch him, "But it's up to you." She gazed at him, chewing her tongue, watching his lips as his breathing slowly evened out.

_Oh, Hells, _she thought, unsure of what to do next, _I... what do I do? I hadn't thought this part through!_

_Is he going to leave now?_

_Gods, please, I hope not, I... I..._

_I want him here..._

_Then say something! Don't just lie there, say something!_

Her hand shook slightly as she gently laid it on his stomach. His eyes suddenly opened, and he turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised in question. "What are you doing?" he asked, frowning slightly as he noticed the earlier confidence in her eyes had vanished, replaced by an unusual vulnerability and uncertainty, "Are you all right?"

Cari swallowed, suddenly more nervous than she had been earlier. The sex, she was good with, but this... this was different. "I-yes," she said softly, inching closer to him, "I-just-what happens now?" she asked quickly, eyeing him apprehensively, "Are you going to... go?"

Bishop almost didn't hear her last word, so quiet was her voice.

_Did-did she...? _

**_What?_**

He stared at her for a long moment. He couldn't remember the last time he actually spent the night with a woman; he usually just left after paying them. His first instinct was to leave her, he'd gotten what he wanted, but a small part of him actually... _wanted _to stay. There was something strangely soothing about sleeping beside a woman, something he hadn't done in what felt like ages...

_And I am damn curious as to what else she can do..._

_Not to mention she looks like she... she wants me to..._

Cari waited for his response, her heart pounding uncomfortably in her ears, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief as he reached out, wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against him, easing the blankets up over them with his other hand. "You're staying," she whispered, gently resting her head on the corded muscle of his shoulder, "I have to say I'm surprised."

_Oh, Cyric, thank you... thank you, thank you, thank you..._

He chuckled and yawned softly, exhaustion finally settling over him. "Well, it is an _awfully _long walk back to my room," he drawled, blowing out the candle on the table next to him, "And I _am_ rather tired. And who knows, perhaps my dear black rose will need me again in the middle of the night."

Cari giggled again and buried her face in his chest, breathing in the subtle scent of smoke and pine that lingered on his skin. "Does that mean we get to do this regularly?" she whispered teasingly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his neck, "And what, _exactly,_ did you just call me?"

"Perhaps," he teased in return, closing his eyes, the soft warmth of her body beside his a strange, yet welcome comfort, "If you make it worth my while, of course." He laughed at her derisive snort, and then tipped her head back to capture her lips in a passionate, hungry kiss, the hand against her back slowly working its way down her backside and then back up, to where the tattoo of a black rose lay emblazoned on her hip.

"Rose..."


	8. Roses and Contracts

**Author's note**: Alright, I'm introducing a new character here, a character of my own creation from Cari's past. Just in case I did a pathetic job explaining him, his name is Martin. He's a cleric of Cyric, and not a nice man, :P I have gone through and updated this one too, to make it more believable, more realistic, and more adult, M-rated, regarding language and sexual references, so if anyone really wants the old version, let me know, though I can't imagine why anyone would, XD

* * *

Sometime during the night, Cari awoke, as suddenly and completely as though someone had smacked her in the head with a pot. She sat up and looked around, and the blanket that had been wrapped tightly around her shoulders fell to her waist. She started at a sudden, strange noise, and she looked down at Bishop sleeping beside her, looking warm and sated and snoring rather loudly.

_Gods, ranger, don't scare me like that..._

The air unexpectedly changed; she shivered slightly as the usually-warm temperature rapidly cooled, and a chilly breeze suddenly blew through the room. She stood up, slipped into her dressing gown, and lit the small candle on her bedside table. Bishop stirred slightly, then rolled over and sprawled out on his back, one arm stretched out above his head.

_I swear, that man can sleep like a rock. _

Rising from the bed, she crept over to her bureau and set the candle down, and watched as the light lit up the large mirror that hung in front of her. She gazed around the room and saw nothing out of the ordinary, save for the chair that she and Bishop had knocked over some time earlier. Shrugging, she leaned in to blow out the candle, and she barely stifled a gasp as she heard an abrupt movement in the shadows. She clenched her fists as a pair of icy hands closed around her shoulders.

"Ah, my dear Carianna," a deep voice whispered, "_Just_ the woman I was looking for."

_Oh, Gods, no... not now..._

Trembling slightly, Cari looked up and saw a familiar pair of black eyes looking back at her in the mirror. "Hello, Martin," she said quietly, her lip tugging up into a sneer, "What are you doing here?"

The man called Martin leaned forward and nuzzled his smooth jaw against Cari's neck. His hair, as black as hers, shimmered slightly in the flickering candlelight. "I've missed you so…" he breathed, wrapping one arm around her waist to pull her back against his chest, "So beautiful..."

"I can tell," she groaned, disgusted, feeling something stiff press against her back. With some effort, she pulled out of his freezing embrace and turned to face him, having to tilt her head back to look him in the eye, as she had to do with Bishop. "What do you want?"

He straightened up, watching her curiously. He was a handsome man, tall and powerfully-built, with chiseled cheekbones and a strong jaw. His skin, pale as death, offset his thick, long black hair, but his eyes… Cari couldn't look away. His eyes were black, bottomless pits, dark, and cruel, revealing everything about him and yet nothing, all at once. She felt as if she were going to drown in them once more.

Martin let out a low chuckle. "What would _any_ good cleric of Cyric need from his best assassin?" he purred, lightly tracing a finger along her shoulder. His long, waxen fingers slipped behind her to caress the back of her neck. "You've been quite hard to track down, you know-"

Bishop gave a loud grunt and rolled over, mumbling softly in his sleep. Cari and Martin both jumped and turned, and Martin's eyes narrowed as they fell on the Bishop's sleeping form, his bare chest slowly rising and falling in time with his breaths.

_Damn it all! _Cari thought to herself, having forgotten that Bishop was even in the room, _Why tonight? Why tonight, of all nights? I thought I was rid of Martin!_

"You wound me, girl," Martin said coldly, eyeing her with contempt, "To think that I am so readily replaced... Exactly _how _many months has it been?"

"Things _might _have been different if you hadn't bedded that wench from the temple, _Corinne_," Cari snarled, the angry flush in her cheeks evident, even in the low light, "So don't blame Bishop."

Martin sneered at her, his lip curling to reveal straight, brilliantly-white teeth. "Well, _he_ doesn't need to hear our conversation," he said harshly, smiling cruelly as he raised his hand to start an invocation, "I hope you-"

In one swift movement, Cari snatched one of her swords from the ground, unsheathed it, and pressed the sharp blade against Martin's throat. "If you _dare _to finish that spell, cleric," she hissed, baring her teeth, "I swear I'll remove your ugly head from your shoulders."

Martin stopped and slowly turned his head to look at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Jumping to conclusions again, are we, my sweet?" he said softly, "Before you point swords, perhaps you should know what's _actually _going on. I was merely casting a spell that would silence our words. He doesn't need to hear what we're talking about. So you can drop the damn blade." Cari hesitated for a moment, and then slowly lowered her sword, keeping her eyes fixated on his. "And you needn't insult me. I know I'm not ugly."

Cari rolled her eyes, her body poised to strike as she watched him cast a shimmering globe around Bishop, who shifted slightly before going back to sleep. She let out a low, soft sigh of relief that turned into a startled gasp as Martin suddenly grabbed her sword arm and forced it behind her back, causing her blade to fall to the floor. She winced as she felt him shove her up against the nearest wall and pin her there with his body.

"All right now," Martin snarled, grabbing a chunk of Cari's hair and jerking her head back, looking at her the way one would look at a prized horse, "Down to business." Cari struggled against his hold on her as she felt his hot breath against her ear. "I am in need of your... _services_."

"Then go somewhere else," she snapped, grimacing in pain as she tried to turn her head away from him, which only resulted in him pulling her hair, "You have Cora, don't you? Go back to your _whore_."

Martin chuckled. "Not_ those_ services, Cari, though I must admit, I miss them." He released her hair and lightly wrapped his long fingers around her neck, softly stroking the hollow of her throat. "No, I need you to take care of a… problem."

Realizing that she wouldn't be free until he got the answer he wanted, she sighed and stopped fidgeting, her arm aching slightly from Martin's powerful grip. "What kind of problem?" she asked quietly, barely repressing a shudder as she noticed he was sniffing her hair, "Why do you need me? Can't you take care of it yourself?"

"If I _could_," he murmured, pressing his thumb against the underside of her chin, tilting her head back against his chest, "Why would I be here?" When Cari said nothing, reluctantly admitting to herself that he had a point, he continued, "A young nobleman in the Blacklake District discovered my temple. I need _you_ to take care of him. I _would _do it myself, but he would recognize me, so the responsibility falls on you. I trust no other, and you _know _what will happen if my temple is discovered..."

Cari's heart sank. "They'll find out about... about me?" Martin nodded, smiling grimly, and she sighed. "I suppose I have no choice, then. How did he discover your temple in the first place? It's supposed to be hidden unless you're a follower. Or with one."

"He was... _escorted_," Martin said flatly, a sour look on his face, "Cora... brought him back."

"_Cora_ brought him back," she repeated, snickering uncontrollably, "What, did she get sick of you too?"

Martin pursed his lips. "It's not funny, rose. He knows where our temple is now, and he can lead guards there. I want him taken care of as soon as possible."

Cari gave him a look. "I'll do it now, if you'll get the Hells off of me."

"Now would be _perfect_," Martin whispered, pleased by her answer, "However..." Cari wrinkled her nose as the hand on her throat shifted downward, to the belt of her dressing gown, "We haven't discussed your payment, rose." He tugged on the loose knot, and Cari started to squirm, trying to fight her way out of his grip, "I can't let you go off and do this out of the goodness of your heart, I'll owe you…"

"Don't touch me," she snarled, attempting to wrench her arm free, "You're not _allowed _to touch me." When he didn't move, she picked up one foot and pressed it against his shin. "You don't move by the time I count to three, I'll break your knee. One..."

Martin quickly took a step back, finally relinquishing his hold on her arm. "Fine," he said wearily, smoothing back the strands of hair that had fallen from his ponytail, "We'll do this _your _way." He smirked. "I'll still owe you though..."

"You want to pay me?" she murmured, gesturing for him to turn around as she lifted her leathers off a nearby chair, "Stay here and watch Bishop." She heard Martin make a noise of disgust as he turned his back on her. "Just in case he wakes up and I'm not here. There are things he needs to know."

"Like _what?" _he snapped, irritated, "I'm not here to look after your bed partners, Cari. It's not my fault if you chose one who'll wet himself or-"

"He called me 'rose,' Martin," she said quietly, quickly stepping into her armor and pulling it up over her shoulders, "He saw."

Martin paused and rolled his eyes. "Well, of _course _he _saw_," he said sarcastically, "Unless you fuck with your _clothes _on now." Cari threw him another look over her shoulder and resumed fastening the buckles of her leathers. "What did you _expect? _Unless it was dark, he's stupid or he's _blind, _he was _bound _to see it at some point. So-"

"He doesn't know what it _means_," Cari said sharply, cutting short his rant, "He just thinks of it as a tattoo. If he wakes up, explain it to him. I... I didn't get a chance to tell him before he... fell asleep," she finished lamely, scooping up her scabbards and tightening the belt around her hips.

"Fell asleep," Martin repeated, his tone disbelieving, "Did he fall asleep? Or was your mouth so full you didn't get a chance to explain it?"

Cari narrowed her eyes. "Fell asleep, you ungrateful bastard." She stomped over to the door and wrenched it open. "I'll be back soon. If I'm not here by sunrise, come looking for me. I doubt he'll be much trouble." She hesitated, and then smiled darkly. "And my mouth wasn't full because we haven't tried yet. I'll let you know if he fills my mouth up in the morning."

Laughing quietly to herself, she shut the door behind her, silencing anything Martin may have said in response. Within seconds, she had stepped out of the Flagon and into the chilly night air. The Docks were deserted, save for a handful of guards and a few cats, prowling for some unlucky mice.

_Well, the sooner the better, _she thought, pulling her hood up over her head, _and the sooner I'm done, the sooner I'm back._

_The sooner I can be back with Bishop..._

--

Back at the Flagon, Bishop stirred in his sleep, his dreams again tempting him with thoughts of Cari writhing on the bed beneath him, her fingernails scratching at his back and her legs locked around his waist as he plunged himself deep inside her, over and over again. He woke up sweating and painfully hard.

_At least I can do something about these damn dreams now, she's beside me… _

He rolled over, stretched out an arm, and was surprised to hit something solid.

_What in the Hells? _

Startled, his eyes flew open and he was shocked to see that not only was he was encased in some sort of sphere, but that Cari's side of the bed was empty.

_Damn that wench, she skipped out on me! Damn her! _

He looked around through the globe, the images strangely distorted, and his eyes fell on a large, shadowy figure in a chair near the door. His heart started racing uncomfortably as the form walked over to the bed.

_Great, I'm trapped and weaponless. Shit._

_Why didn't I bring a weapon with me? Hells, I'm-_

_Wait... if I know Cari..._

He quickly slipped his hand under her pillow, and he sniffed triumphantly as his hands closed around the hilt of a dagger.

_Knew it. She's like me._

A moment later, the sphere dissipated, and Bishop found himself looking at a man he grudgingly had to admit was probably about as handsome as he was, just in a far creepier, colder, 'I'm going to devour your soul' kind of way.

_In all my times I've been with a woman, I've never had a _man _in the room when I woke up. _

_Well, unless you count a couple of irate husbands..._

_All right, more than a couple..._

He looked the other man over, quickly assessing if he were any threat. The man's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes narrowed, and he carried no sword, but his robes suggested that his preferred weapons were spells. The man's eyes flitted to the dagger in Bishop's hand.

"I'm a priest of the Black Sun," the man said, sarcasm and disdain dripping off his words, "Do you _truly _think you can stop me with a _dagger?_"

Bishop quickly whipped the blade around to point it at the man's head. "Have you ever tried casting a spell with a dagger embedded in your _skull?_"

The man was silent for a moment, and then he made some sort of noise, halfway between a snort and a chuckle. "You're Bishop, right?" the man drawled, looking rather haughty and bored. Bishop nodded, his body still tense, watching the other man's every move. "Your dear bedmate told me to keep an eye on you while she went out," the cleric continued, pulling a chair over so he could sit down, "But _where _are my manners? I'm Martin," he said ironically, extending a hand, "Despite how uncomfortable I'm sure you are, there's no reason not to be polite, is there?"

"I'm _not _uncomfortable," Bishop growled, reluctantly taking the offered hand and clasping the other man's wrist, "And I've never been one for manners."

"I can tell," Martin replied, grimacing as Bishop sat up and accidentally kicked the blanket down to his knees, "Would you kindly cover yourself? I didn't come here tonight to get an eyeful of... _that._"

Bishop raised an eyebrow and laughed derisively. "What, someone feeling inadequate? Realize that Cari wanted more than what you had to offer?"

Frowning, Martin swallowed, suppressing a gag. "No, you smelly ranger, it's... distracting. I'm actually here for a reason, not to gawk at... that."

"Then why _are _you here?" Bishop asked warily, narrowing his eyes and tucking the blanket back around his waist, "And I'm not doing this for you. It's cold in here."

"I'm over_joyed_," Martin said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair, "As for why I'm still here, it's because my dear former flame has informed me that you saw that pretty little tattoo of hers."

"Which one?" Bishop casually started twirling Cari's dagger between his fingers. "The one on her back, her arm, her breast, her hip, or her-"

"Her hip," Martin said, massaging his temples with his middle fingers, "Mystra's saggy-_Gods_, you are annoying. The rose on her hip."

"Oh, _that _one." Bishop began picking at his fingernails with the tip of the dagger, more to pass the time than anything else. "What about it?"

"Though I'm sure I know the answer already," Martin said, condescension thick in his voice, "Do you know anything about it?" A brief moment of confusion flitted across Bishop's face, and he shook his head. "Didn't think so. Since you don't, it appears that I'll have to explain why you need to keep her tattoo between the two of you. Don't go telling everyone about it."

"So, it's not just something she got after drinking a tavern out of ale?" Bishop said sarcastically, a mocking smile on his face, "But since you, apparently, have some big story to tell, and I've got nothing better to do until Cari gets back, start talking."

"Watch your tone," Martin said coldly, his eyebrows knotting above his eyes to form one black, severe line, "This is important. It could mean Cari's death if you go shooting your damned mouth off." Bishop opened his mouth to protest, but Martin cut him off. "Her tattoo is a brand, you fool. Roses are these pristine, beautiful things, and when one is black, wilted, dead, it speaks of the corruption of that beauty. _That's _what her brand means." Martin's voice grew softer, more crazed, and Bishop had to lean in closer to hear him. "She was once an innocent, and was corrupted into what she is. And Cyric _likes _that. He drinks it in, devours it. Her broken little heart is his life-force, as are the broken little hearts she causes." When Bishop looked perplexed, Martin rolled his eyes. "She's an assassin. A murderer. That tattoo brands her as one. So _don't _go spreading it around. It marks her as belonging to Cyric, and I am sure that the Watch here wouldn't take too kindly to having an assassin in their midst. So _don't _go telling everyone about it, understand? She'll be thrown out of favor if you do. So, _don't."_

"If it will get you off of my back and _out _of here," Bishop snarled, clenching his fist around the hilt of the dagger, "Then _sure_. I wasn't going to say anything anyway. I didn't think it was all that important."

"Good," Martin said sharply, satisfied with Bishop's response, "Now, Cari should be back soon. Let's try to get along until she returns." An uncomfortable silence settled between them as Bishop continued to pick at his fingernails with the tip of Cari's dagger. Martin leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, so he could stare at his linked fingers. After a few awkward moments had passed, the door opened and Cari swept in, carrying a blood-stained bag in her hands. Bishop noticed the strange, uncomfortable look on her face as she shut the door and strode over to Martin, presenting him with the bloody satchel.

"Heart and signet ring, with finger still attached," she said curtly, her voice slightly strained, "As per usual."

She folded her arms over her chest, and Bishop noticed she was shaking as Martin rose from his seat, took the bag, and slipped it into a pocket on the inside of his robes. "Thank you, Carianna. You have done well tonight." Cari said nothing, instead staring at a spot on the worn floor of her room, and Martin smiled, a cold, vicious, and strangely victorious smile. "You're trembling, rose," his tone more mocking than concerned, "Was it a good one?" Cari was still silent, hating her body for betraying her, but Bishop could see her fingers gripping and clenching at her arms. "Was it bloody?" Martin continued, the smile on his face malicious as Cari's breaths grew shorter and more ragged, "Did he-"

"He fought," she blurted out, reaching up to pull at the clasp holding her cloak together, "He fought. He made me work for it." She whimpered softly as the cloak slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. "He fought hard, Martin," she whispered, glancing over at Bishop as she released her scabbards from her hips, so that her swords fell to the floor with a loud _thunk_, "I need it. I need it now..."

"Don't tell _me _that," Martin said softly, immensely satisfied to see her in such a state, "Tell Bishop." He glanced over at the other man, and then turned on his heel and walked towards the shadows. "Show _him _what you mean. Goodnight, Carianna."

Bishop watched as Martin vanished into the darkness, then turned back to Cari, and he was startled to see her hurriedly pulling her boots and gloves off, leaving them where they fell on the floor. "What did he mean by that?" he asked, more than a little curious and confused as she tossed her bracers onto her bureau.

"A good murder gets my blood flowing," Cari murmured, turning her attentions and shaking fingers to her leathers, "And there's only one thing that sates it."

"What do you mean, 'gets your blood flowing?'" Bishop asked, raising an eyebrow in question, "As in...?"

Cari groaned to herself, stumbling over her own fingers in her attempt to unfasten the buckles that lay over her breasts. "I-I get... I get excited," she whispered, giving up on those buckles to concentrate on her belt, "I-I get aroused-Gods-fucking-damn it, I normally don't have this kind of trouble!" she wailed, nearly screaming in frustration, "I just-"

She stopped abruptly as Bishop rose from her bed, walked over, took the buckles in his hands and quickly freed her breasts from the confines of her leathers. He followed with the rest of her armor, until it lay in a pile on the floor and she stood bare before him, her pale skin still glistening with sweat. He barely had a moment to savor the sight of her body before she shoved his chest, hard, and, taken by surprise, he lost his balance and fell back onto her bed. He had just managed to sit up when Cari straddled his lap and pressed her hips against his, the feel of her warm body so close to his making him stir beneath her.

"_That's_ what you meant-" he said, the rest of his words silenced as she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a fierce, hungry, frantic kiss, their lips crashing against each other as Bishop wrapped his arm tightly around her waist and moved them up her bed until his back rested against her headboard. He moaned into her mouth as he felt her other hand close around his hardening manhood, and he grunted loudly, his hips bucking upward as she suddenly thrust herself down onto him, engulfing him in her tight, moist warmth.

Groaning loudly at the pleasurable sensation of being buried inside her once more, Bishop's hands fell to the soft flesh of her hips, where his fingertips dug into her skin as he held her, pulling her against him in a slow, sensual rhythm, and in response, Cari lightly trailed her lips down his neck and back up to his ear, where she gently nibbled on his earlobe, having learned that it made him shiver. "Take me," she whispered urgently, sighing softly at the feeling of him deep within her, filling her, stretching her as she let him slowly rock her back and forth, "Hard and fast. Like you did earlier, and don't stop until morning."


	9. Knights and Vigils

(**Author's note**: Sorry to you Nevalle fans out there, I took liberties with his character, so please, don't hate me! Enjoy the chapter!)

"Cari, wake up! Someone's here to see you!"

Cari awoke with a start, bleary-eyed and groggy, Duncan's voice piercing the silence in her room.

"Get up, lass, _now_!"

"Alright, I'm coming!" she cried, sliding out from underneath Bishop's arm and leaping out of bed.

"Whassit? Whasgoinon?" Bishop said, sitting up and shaking his head sleepily, "Who's yelling?"

"Duncan's yelling for me," Cari muttered, rolling her eyes as she walked to the other side of the bed, bending over to gather her dressing gown.

Bishop grabbed her wrist, grinning as he pulled her towards him.

"Mmmm, who cares? You should come back to bed," he purred, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sliding his arms around her waist.

"I think I could do that," she smirked, moaning as his lips blazed a trail of heat across her breasts, his hands kneading the muscles in her back.

"Duncan be damned," Bishop groaned, cupping his hand around her neck and pulling her lips towards his, "he can wait a few minutes."

"I think he can," Cari breathed, straddling his lap.

"Cari, _now_!" Duncan bellowed.

"I'm going to kill that man on general principle," Bishop snarled as Cari pulled away, growling in frustration.

"I wouldn't blame you," she muttered, slipping into her dressing gown.

"Carianna Farlong, you have ten seconds-"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" she shouted, stopping by the large mirror on her dresser to straighten her hair and groaning as she noticed the large bite mark on her neck. "Thanks for this, by the way."

"What can I say? I love leaving my mark on a woman," he winked, throwing on his tunic and trousers.

"As I do with men."

"I'm sure," Bishop said, raising an eyebrow as he exited her room, Cari behind him. "And by the way, next time you leave a creepy man to watch over me in my sleep, wake me up and _tell _me. I'm not used to waking up to men in my room," he blinked, "Except angry husbands."

"What, did Martin _scare_ you?"

"Far from it," Bishop growled, his words dripping with contempt, "It's just hard trying to hold your composure against someone you've never met when you're naked and defenseless."

"You obviously did a good job, both of you were still alive when I got there."

"It does no good if I'm on my guard and I'm _weaponless_," he snapped, gesturing wildly with his hands. "Warn me next time!"

"I didn't think a man like you _needed_ warning."

"I don't, I just-"

"Then stop acting like a frightened child," she spat.

Bishop stopped.

"Did, did you just insult me?"

"Yes, and what're you going to do about it?"

"Think of something to say in return. It's not often people insult _me_."

"I know," Cari grinned.

Bishop shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they strode into the common room, smiling contently as Cari's companions stared at her, their faces stony and resigned.

"Ah, there you are," a cold voice snapped.

Cari turned to see a handsome man standing just inside the door, his arms folded across his chest. His hair was blonde and perfectly coiffed, his piercing brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. His tunic bore the same fearsome, blue eye that Callum wore. Casavir stood nearby, frowning.

"That's Nevalle," Casavir hissed, "One of the Nine."

_Now I know why I don't pay taxes, it all goes to this knight's hair-care products_, Cari thought to herself. She eyed the man called Nevalle warily.

"Perhaps you'd better explain why you're here, Sir Nevalle."

The knight raised an eyebrow, looking Cari over.

"Well, it is a shame to have to tell this to one so lovely," he drawled, sinking into a half-bow.

"Save it for someone else, knight," Bishop growled, sneering.

"My, someone has a temper," Nevalle said coldly. "Watch your mouth, whelp."

"Careful, knight, or I'll mess up that pristine hair of yours," Bishop shot back, "Along with other, more _vital_ parts of your anatomy."

"Why don't you let me talk to Carianna? Unless _you_ want to see her delivered to Luskan," Nevalle snapped.

"Luskan?" Cari blurted out, "Why Luskan?"

"I am here because Luskan has accused you of murder – an entire village no less. Have you heard of Ember?"

"I _traveled_ through it, I didn't _slaughter_ it," Cari said icily. "I am responsible for _many_ things, but not this."

"I'm sure," Nevalle scoffed. "I know your kind, Carianna; I know how you derive pleasure from taking human life. And it disgusts me. You're in luck though. I've scraped things off my _boot_ that I respect more than Luskan. But unless we have some means of clearing you of these charges, we will have to surrender you to them. And I'd hate to lose such a _lovely_ addition to our little city," he leered, smirking as Bishop's lip curled, his arm tightening around Cari's shoulders.

_There he goes with that alpha male thing again, _Cari smiled to herself.

"Since you have chosen the outlaw's path here in Neverwinter, there is little I can do to help you. If you were a knight, a _squire_ even, it would be enough to keep you out of Luskan's hands. I do not believe you are guilty of _this_ crime, and though I would love to bring you to trial, I won't have it done in a Luskan court."

"So, you're just going to let me hang?" Cari snarled. "Literally?"

"There is little more that I can do on your behalf. You and your men have placed yourselves outside of Neverwinter law, and this is the price."

"Well now, glad to know you and the rest of the Nine are doing a wonderful job of _not_ alienating your citizens," Bishop growled, straightening up and glaring at Nevalle.

The knight's eyes narrowed as they fell on the tattoo on Bishop's neck.

"Didn't I already tell you to watch your mouth?" he snarled. His eyes snapped back to Cari, his jaw set. "I am not turning you over to a Luskan court for 'justice.' I'm going to send a... a _friend _to help you where I can't. Now, if you'll excuse me, a nobleman was murdered in his home last night and I need to go investigate," he groaned. "Good day."

"Good luck" Cari said coldly, smiling at Nevalle, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.

The knight turned and gave her one last look of loathing before sweeping out the door, flanked by his bodyguards. Not two seconds after Nevalle departed, Wolf stepped out of the shadows.

"There you are! Axle sent me to tell you he has someone who wants to meet you, a Sir Edmund" he said enthusiastically.

"Thanks, Wolf, I'll see him right away," Cari said wearily, weakly falling into a nearby chair, Bishop sitting down beside her.

"By your leave, milord, he will be pleased to see you," Wolf said, half-bowing and giving an impish grin before walking over and throwing himself on the rug by the fire.

Duncan was fuming.

"No way, no way in the _Hells_ will I let those Luskans get their hands on you," he snarled, clenching his fists.

"Just my luck," Bishop grumbled, "Luskan finds a way into my life no matter how far I run."

Cari threw him a look.

"Okay, so, now what?" she inquired, nervously running her fingers through her hair.

"This is going too far, even by _Luskan_ standards!" Neeshka squeaked as she dropped down beside Cari.

"Is it?" Bishop snarled, absentmindedly rubbing the tattoo on his neck. "If you have something Luskan wants, they'd kill an entire city for it. They don't care." His arm tightened around Cari's shoulders. "They attacked Neverwinter once, and even now they're sending fleets to attack Ruathym. Give them an excuse, and you'll soon find Luskan blades at your gate."

Sal poked his head out from behind the bar.

"Uh, Duncan, it looks like we have a guest."

"Oh, as if the day couldn't get any worse…what do you want, Sand?" Duncan snapped.

Karnwyr growled as Jaral jumped up into Cari's lap, purring. Sand rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him.

"I am here to help you – and your kin, actually," Sand murmured. "I appear to have been given an ultimatum, in fact. Know that if you are sent to Luskan, you _will_ be killed."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know," Cari muttered under her breath.

She listened intently as Sand explained the situation. They would have to travel to Port Llast, and then to Ember to find evidence to counteract the Luskan Ambassador's accusation, and hopefully clear her name.

"…and with connections that you now have, you should go talk to Axle and see what can be done."

Cari nodded.

"Alright, let's go find Axle together then."

"Thank you for cooperating with me. Foiling Luskan plots is something I _relish_," Sand grinned.

"Okay, everybody, let's head out, I've got to find this 'Sir Edmund' and see what I can do to save my leather-clad behind," Cari griped.

"Cari?" Casavir whispered, "I've heard of Sir Edmund. And of how he acts around women. I remember hearing rumors about some farm he visited a while back. I'd be on my guard around him, alright?"

"Oh, Cyric's blood, this is _not_ what I need," Cari groaned.

"I'm confident you'll be fine, Cari," Casavir said warmly. "If anyone can wallop a guy for trying to get into her trousers, it's you. We should go though; we don't want to keep Sir Edmund waiting."

* * *

"A _squire_?" Cari roared, bursting through the door to the Flagon and slamming it behind her. "A _squire_? _Me_?" 

"I know, Cari, calm down!" Casavir yelled as Cari stomped past Duncan, making her way to her room.

"This is absolutely and utterly ridiculous!" Cari snarled, grabbing her rucksack and throwing a couple potions into the bottom.

"_You_ think it's ridiculous? What am _I_ supposed to do tonight?" Bishop whined.

Cari threw him a look.

"You can survive one night without me, Bishop. What, you actually want to be with a woman two nights in a row?" she spat, throwing a healing kit into her bag.

"Only if you don't disappear in the middle of the night and leave a creepy cleric to watch over me," he growled, his amber eyes flashing dangerously. "Besides, you got me curious as to what _else_ you can do, my dear."

Cari rolled her eyes.

"Does nobody see a problem with _me_ being a squire? I mean, are they so desperate for nobility that they'd offer it to _me_? What if I don't want it?"

"You know that it's the only way to keep you from Luskan's hands," Sand said firmly, raising his eyebrows.

She sank down onto her bed, holding her head in her hands.

"This whole thing is a huge mess," Cari moaned, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. "And why do I have to do this Solace Glade thing? Alone?"

"I wish I could go with you, Cari," Casavir said quietly as Cari made a noise of disgust, wiping kohl on her pants, "but the night in Solace Glade is a sacred one. It's tradition for you to do it alone."

"The hells you would, paladin," Bishop snarled, "I'd go with her."

Casavir glared at him.

"Save your aggression towards _other_ men, will you?" he snapped, "This is stressful for all of us."

"It wouldn't be so gods-damned frustrating if Sir Edmund weren't so _strange_," Cari groused.

"Oh, I know strange!" Grobnar piped up, "One time, when I was just outside of Port Llast-"

"Another time, Grobnar," Sand hissed. "This is the only way to save your skin, Cari. So I suggest you not keep Sir Edmund waiting."

Cari sighed in frustration one more time as she threw her bag over her shoulder, storming out of her room.

Casavir chuckled as he heard her yelling at Edmund.

"You try _anything_, and I mean _anything_, you'll lose any and all appendages, got it?"

"You think someone should go keep an eye on her?" Sand asked quietly as he heard the front door slam, followed by Duncan's curses.

"Sounds like a plan," Casavir nodded. "I'm not sure she's the most stable woman I've ever met."

"Tell me about it," Bishop muttered, pointing to the gash on his face.

"You can tell me all about it while we wait for her at Solace Glade," Casavir said firmly.

"What, why _me_?" Bishop spat.

"Because you have nothing to do tonight _anyway_," Casavir smirked, grinning as Bishop stormed out. "Be ready in ten minutes!"

Bishop yelled something over his shoulder that sounded like a string of broken elvish curse words.

"My, I haven't heard such a delightful slaughter of my language since I had that talk with Elanee about the finer points of bathing regularly," Sand drawled.

"I heard that, elf!" Bishop bellowed.

"This is going to be a fun night," Casavir moaned, sweeping out the door.


	10. Luskans and Louts

(**Author's note**: This chapter is meant to reinforce Bishop and Casavir's relationship as something _other_ than romantic rivals, more like an older brother meeting a new lover or something similar. So, if it seems light, my apologies, but since there's no competition, it's supposed to be! Enjoy! Thanks to Sticksie and Cro-Magnon for all their help!)

"_Why_ are we here, exactly?" Bishop whined as they watched Cari polish her katanas with oil, chatting animatedly with Shandra.

"We're keeping an eye on things, Bishop," Casavir groaned, doubting his decision to bring the ranger along. The two men were crouched on the other side of a small hill, weapons at hand, keeping an eye on Cari's camp. "Cari attracts more trouble than any women I've ever met."

"Nothing seems to be wrong," Bishop muttered, "Well, other than she's here and not in my bed."

Casavir sighed in frustration.

"Gods, Bishop, I've served with men that hadn't touched a woman in a couple _years_, and you're complaining about a couple _hours_? Are you _that_ insatiable?"

"_They_ never bedded Cari."

Casavir glared at him. "What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

Bishop chuckled suggestively. "Well, _they_ don't know what she can do with her-"

"Stop, stop! _Gods_, you are talking about a friend of mine!" Casavir said in distaste, "So please, don't finish that sentence."

"Why not?" Bishop teased, "Are you _jealous_?"

"By Tyr _no_, just afraid of seeing my dinner again," Casavir shot back, "Besides, she's far too young for me. I won't deny she's an interesting woman, but it would be like bedding my sister."

"You have a sister?"

Casavir shook his head in disbelief.

"No, it's just an expression," he said, exasperated, "But Cari _is _the closest thing I've ever had to a sister."

"So what?"

Casavir groaned. "It means I'm not ever going to see her as a lover and she won't see me as one either. That also means you can stop getting on your guard while I'm around, all right? Because it gets very tiresome, very quickly," he paused, "And she wouldn't want to mess things up anyway."

"Mess things up? What do you mean?"

"With you."

"Why would she care about messing things up with me?"

Casavir groaned again, gently massaging his temples with his fingertips.

"I gather you didn't talk to her much before the githyanki attack?"

"We had a few talks, but it's not like we sat in front of a fire and related our pasts to the other," Bishop shrugged, confused.

"I figured, but every time I saw you two talking you were always so physically close to each other. Cari was _very_ interested in you."

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

"It just showed you were attracted to each other. At least, that's what _I_ saw."

"How could you tell?" Bishop asked, bemused.

"It could have been the way Cari straddled the bench to face you… or it could have been the way you fingered that buckle on her bracer, the one she wears on her left arm, the arm she rests on the table when she drinks – don't look at me like that, I often keep a close eye on her - and did you know that you play with your stubble when you talk to her?"

"_What_? Exactly how long have you been watching me, paladin?"

"Not you, _her_, and she just happened to be talking to _you_ at the time," Casavir grinned triumphantly, "And you _do_ run your finger along your stubble when you're talking to her. Khelgar noticed it too."

"The dwarf was watching me too? Hells, that's disturbing."

"No! We were watching _her_ to make sure she was all right, not _you_. She seems to be fine, other than she's been accused of mass murder by Luskan. And that she's got a part of a sword embedded in her chest. _And_ that she's becoming a squire, despite what she wants-"

"I get it, pally, I get it, all right?"

"Good, because you need to understand something else," Casavir said sternly, "I won't have _you_ hurting her either, understood? She has friends here, friends who would do anything for her, as she would for us."

"Yeah," Bishop mumbled, watching as Shandra disappeared into the shadows, "Although if Shandra keeps following Cari around I may have to have a word with _her_ too."

"Gods, you're frustrating," Casavir moaned to the heavens. "I'm sure Cari will be happy to spend some time with you when she gets back, but by Tyr, you're like a he-wolf in mating season."

"You would be too, if you saw what her-"

"Not another word, Bishop," Casavir exclaimed in revulsion, "Please, lest my dinner revisit me."

"Suit yourself," Bishop shrugged, "You know who annoys me though?"

"Let me guess… hmm, everyone?"

"Oh, ha-ha, paladin, very funny. No, I was actually thinking of Nevalle."

"Ah yes, Sir Nevalle, the _glorious_ Captain of the Neverwinter Nine," Casavir said bitterly, shaking his head as he watched Cari pull a brush out of her bag and gently stroke it through her hair. "Doesn't she know she needs to keep her hair back at all times?"

"She _does_ know to keep it back," Bishop snapped, "What were you saying about Nevalle?"

"I think that he's-"

"Wait, what's that?" Bishop interrupted, narrowing his eyes.

"What?" Casavir asked, squinting in an attempt to see in the darkness.

"_That_," Bishop snapped, pointing.

Casavir gasped as a tall, powerfully built man stepped out of the shadows, flanked by two hulking half-orcs. They wore strange armor and carried unusual weapons, the blades no doubt dripping with poison.

"We have to help her," Bishop snarled, grabbing his bow and rising from their hiding spot, "They're Luskans, they'll tear her apart."

"Get down!" Casavir growled, yanking Bishop back down. "I don't want to rush in unless we have to. Otherwise, _Cari_ may end up fatally distracted."

"Good point," Bishop grumbled as he watched Cari rise to her feet, her curtain of hair gleaming in the moonlight. "But you can't expect me to just sit here!"

"I do and you must. If it appears as if she's outmatched, we'll rush in. Agreed?"

"Yeah," Bishop muttered, his heart beating against his chest as Cari arched an eyebrow at the intruders, a murderous smile on her face.

"I'm glad you're here. I was getting bored," she sneered.

The leader smiled cruelly. "Excellent, let the entertainment begin!"

Bishop lunged again, bow in hand, grunting as Casavir pinned him down once more. He watched closely as Cari spun gracefully, her hair flying about her as she drove her swords into the chest of one of the half-orcs, her teeth set in a grimace as she twisted the steel, destroying his heart. He shook Casavir loose, drawing an arrow from his quiver as he stood up, grinning cruelly as it found its mark in the skull of the other half-orc, who fell to the ground.

Cari gasped and Casavir swore loudly, snarling as the final assassin caught her off-guard; Cari had to dive to the ground to avoid his blade. Bishop moved quickly; he drew another arrow and sank it deep into the chest of the remaining Luskan, his movements swift and deliberate. He plunged a second arrow into the assassin's neck as Cari leapt back to her feet, slitting the man's throat as he fell. She spun around, her eyes blazing with fury.

"What are you _doing_ here?" she cried, indignantly, as Bishop ran towards her, Casavir close on his heels, "How long have you been here? Why are you-?"

She gasped as Bishop pulled her into an embrace, capturing her lips and kissing her passionately, Casavir groaning in distaste behind them.

"Don't do that again," Cari managed, ardent kisses making every other word a gasp, "I can handle things on my own."

"Sure you can," Bishop murmured, breathless in return, "Even though we just saved your life."

"We have no time for this," Casavir snapped, grabbing Bishop by the shoulders, "I hear Edmund's horse."

"Shove off, pally," Bishop snarled, kissing along Cari's jaw.

"Say that again and I'll smite you without a second thought," Casavir growled, jerking Bishop away, "You can do this back in the Flagon. Now, let's _go_!"

"Thank you!" Cari yelled as the men ran away into the darkness, her heart pounding pleasantly against her chest.

_Well, I enjoyed __**that**__ little diversion._

"So, do you dislike men in general, or was it just these _particular_ louts?" Edmund said minutes later, intrigued, prodding one of the corpses with his toe.

"They thought me a farm girl," Cari smirked, "And asked to spend the night."

"I'm sure," he drawled, "I will not ask where the arrows came from. But I will warn you that you need to be more careful, all right? A lot of people want you dead, and I wouldn't want to see that happen. Now, are you ready to go and rub it in that Luskan wench's face?"

"For a moment it sounded like you cared," Cari smiled as Edmund pulled her onto the horse behind him.

"Well, it wouldn't do for my first squire to die, now would it?" he said awkwardly as they rode back to Neverwinter, "I mean, what would I say at your funeral?"

"That I can magically produce arrows from my-"

"How about _not_?" Edmund laughed. "Anyway, just, be careful, all right?"

"All right, all right, I will. Though people do tend to try to kill me when I'm just sitting around innocently, you know."

"I meant to ask you," Edmund inquired an hour later, helping her back to the ground as Neverwinter Castle loomed above them, "How _did_ you fight them off?"

"That would involve explaining the arrows then, wouldn't it?" Cari grinned.

"I suppose it would. Though, I must say that young ranger friend of yours is a much better shot than I ever was. Shall we, squire?" Edmund asked, offering her his arm.

Cari stared at him, shocked.

"Of course, my most noble and chivalrous knight," she chuckled, looping her arm through his, "But how did you know?"

"Don't forget... _I_ certainly didn't spend _my_ vigil alone," Edmund winked, "And I remember how he looked at you when you first came to me."

"How _did_ he look at me? And why am I picturing a ravenous wolf looking at a doe?"

Edmund laughed loudly, drawing offended stares from the palace guards.

"Well, interesting descriptions aside, he couldn't take his eyes off you, squire. Come, let us relish our small victory today."

_Small victory, huh?_ Cari thought as they swept into Nasher's chambers. She smiled to herself, thinking of the way Bishop touched her earlier, his kiss hungry, as if he couldn't get enough of her.

_Small victory indeed._


	11. Venison and Tattoos

(**Author's note: **This is Cari's reaction to Ember, and upon seeing the destruction, her reaction to her accusation. This is a bit of a heavier chapter than usual, angst-wise, but you get a good look into both Cari's character and her current relationship with Bishop. Enjoy!!!)

"It's… it's…" Shandra stammered.

"It's destroyed," Casavir said quietly.

Cari took a slow step forward, a dismayed look on her face as she gazed upon the remains that were once the town of Ember.

"How could they even _think_ I would do such a thing," she breathed. "This was, was-"

"A massacre," Bishop finished, coming to stand beside her. "Come on."

He led the way through the ruins, Cari beside him, her companions falling behind. Cari's blood turned to ice in her veins as she realized the full extent of the slaughter. The buildings were burned to the ground; Cari looked into soot-covered windows to see the charred bodies of families huddled together, parents clutching children, attempting to shield them from the blaze. Horrified tears welled in her eyes as she noticed the doors had been barred from the outside, trapping the families within.

She felt as though she would be sick as she saw the mangled bodies haphazardly strewn about, left as if nobody cared about their burial rights. Everything was dead: children, the elderly, even the livestock. Some bodies bore the marks of struggle before they were cut down; one man's knuckles were bloodied, as if he had driven them into steel armor. Cari noticed the way Bishop absentmindedly rubbed the tattoo on his neck the longer they walked.

"Are you all right?" she inquired softly.

"What? I'm fine," he said dismissively, his hand falling to his side. "How are _you_ faring?"

"Could be better. To think that some say I am capable of such a horrible, despicable act… who commits acts like these? Who destroys entire villages? I mean, murder is one thing, and I would be a bloody hypocrite if I denounced murder, but to destroy the entire village?"

"It takes a different type of person to do something like this, Cari," Bishop murmured, his words icy. "A real _special_ person."

"I suppose. Come on, let's keep moving."

Cari started to feel ill as they spotted the body of a young woman, who had nearly managed to escape the slaughter.

"Some coward shot her down as she ran," Casavir said bitterly. "She scarcely looks twenty."

"She's not that much younger than _I_ am Cas," Cari moaned, feeling dizzy. "Whoever did this… by the Gods, _I'll_ kill them. This is just too much. I thought that the old man was bad, his head was nearly clean off his shoulders, but this-this is just-"

"I know, Cari, I know," Casavir murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick hug. "We can talk later if you want, if you need it."

Cari smiled. "Thanks, Cas."

When they happened upon the mangled corpse of an elderly woman, surrounded by the bodies of her slaughtered cats, Cari had to excuse herself as she felt her muscles clench, a horrid feeling in the pit of her stomach.

_Hells, no, please, she looked so much like Retta, no-_

_Oh, Hells-_

Tears burned in Cari's eyes as she hunched over, Bishop and Casavir running to her side as they heard her vomit. Her body trembled as they eased her to her feet, carefully avoiding the puddle of sick.

"I'm sorry, Sand," she choked, her normally rosy complexion now ashen, sallow, "I can't do this all in one day; we need to set up camp somewhere so I can lie down."

"Of course, my dear girl," Sand said kindly, "I can't have my client sick now, can I?"

A couple of hours later, Cari sat by herself, away from the main camp, oiling her leathers, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She seethed as tears of fury and embarrassment streaked her cheeks.

_How could anyone have thought me responsible for such a horrid act? I know I have a less-than-admirable past, but to think me to blame for that, that butchery?_

_And then, of course, I had to get sick. In front of everyone. Their big, strong, fearless leader sick over… well, it was pretty horrific, but nobody else retched._

_But I had to do it in front of Bishop, of all people. He must think me a bloody fool._

She jumped as Casavir sat down beside her, holding a plate with a strip of roasted venison upon it, his expression kind. She pushed her leathers aside.

"You need to eat, Cari," he urged, handing her the plate, "You need to keep your strength up."

"Who cooked it?"

"Bishop."

Cari smiled weakly and shrugged off her blanket, putting the plate on her lap. "I'll eat it then."

"What? You wouldn't have eaten it had _I_ cooked it?"

"Of course I would have, it was Shandra I was worried about," Cari said quietly, taking a small bite, "Sweet girl, can't use seasoning to save her life. A little garlic and salt can go a long way."

"Well, at least you still have your sense of humor," Casavir grinned. "Cari, how are you holding up?"

She snorted. "Well, let's see: I wasn't exactly in the best shape as we got there, and then I retched on the ground. I could be doing better, Cas."

"How so?"

"I just, it infuriates me to know that I have been accused of such a horrific crime," Cari said bitterly, furious tears forming yet again, "I mean, yes, I'm a murderer, but even I have limits."

"What do you mean?" Casavir prompted gently.

"I mean," Cari shouted, rising to her feet, her rage and frustration spilling over, "I mean that I have rules, Casavir. I have _rules_ for myself! And I follow them diligently! And-e_verything_ in Ember was dead!" she said angrily, weakly sinking to her knees, burying her head in her hands, "Families burned in their homes, children cut down, the elderly slaughtered, that's, that's, there's no word for how horrible that is! I don't do that! And to think that I've been accused of doing it, it's-"

Cari gasped as she was pulled into an awkward embrace, a familiar, soothing scent filling her senses. She smiled, grateful for the comfort, her breaths sharp and ragged.

"Thanks, Cas," she whispered, resting her head on his chest.

"Err, try again, Cari."

She looked up and jumped; surprised to see Bishop looking down at her, a slightly uncomfortable smile on his face as he gently stroked her hair.

_Well, I was not expecting __**that**._

"Wait, where did _you_ come from?" Cari asked, surprised. "How much did you hear?"

"I was coming over to see if you needed some water," he said quietly, gesturing to the flask now resting against his thigh. "And I noticed you were on your knees, and I couldn't let a good opportunity pass me by."

"Savor it, it doesn't happen often," she grinned.

"Tyr, please, grant me strength," Casavir groaned, disgusted. "I think I'll just leave you two alone now. Good night."

Cari watched as he disappeared into the trees, carrying her empty plate. Her heart raced against her chest as she realized she was alone with Bishop, truly alone with him for the first time since their night in the Flagon, everyone else yards away by the campfire, which flickered dimly through the thick trees.

_It's not for lack of trying; _she thought to herself, _it's just that every time we think we're alone we get interrupted. I swear, if it happens again I might kill Grobnar…_

_Unless Bishop didn't enjoy himself with me, _she thought, mildly panicked, _no, he had to have done so; I've never known a man to yell like that in bed… _

_Well, it's not like we talked about it, I mean, he could at least __**show**__ me he wants me, it would make things easier…_

As if he'd read her mind, Bishop pulled away, desire blazing in his eyes as he reached up to caress her cheek, brushing his lips over her skin. "Why are you so upset over this, Cari?"

_Oh, Cyric, thank you, that's all I needed._

"It's just, everyone makes these _judgments_ about me," she spat angrily, relaxing into his embrace, "Men see me walking down the street in my plainclothes and I get offers for a tumble. Women see me walking down the street in my plainclothes and I get scathing, contemptuous looks-"

"Perhaps they're just jealous," Bishop whispered, smirking slightly as he fingered the neckline of her tunic, untying the leather laces, his heart racing as he felt the warmth of her skin.

"Sure," Cari said sourly, moaning softly as the fabric parted, his hand sliding under her smallclothes to caress her breast, "That's it. Then there are whole families who see me walking down the street in my armor and they cross to the other side to avoid me. And I _like_ kids! People see my appearance and make snap assumptions about my character, like I'm going to kill them if they come to close to me. It _infuriates_ me!"

_Say something to her_, his conscience snapped, _you know you've been in her situation before._

_How so?_

_Does everyone you meet judging you by your appearance and your brand strike you as familiar? If that does not ring true, what about automatically being judged by your past?_

_Huh, I suppose that's right._

"Believe me, Cari, I empathize more than you know," he murmured, leaning in to capture her lips, his thumb gently rubbing the hard nub between his fingers.

"How so?" she whispered breathlessly, his kiss exhilarating, his touch igniting a fire in her skin.

"Everyone sees this tattoo on my neck and assumes the worst," he said softly, his free hand running up and down her back, "I have rules too, they match yours: no children, no families, no crippled, and no aged. Yet people think me this murderous brute. Women rarely see me as more than a good time, as some mindless body put on this plane for their physical pleasure."

_Oh, bloody hell, Bishop's opening up to me, _Cari thought, mildly bewildered, _I didn't see __**that**__ coming._

_Maybe it had something to do with the fact that __**I**__ just did. _

_He really does have that in common with me, I know how it feels to be seen as just some body to be used and tossed aside like some old pair of boots_, she thought bitterly.

_Well, __**I**__ don't see Bishop as just a body, that's for damn sure._

"There's obviously more to you than that, Bishop," Cari smiled, trembling slightly as his hand slipped under the back of her tunic. "I never saw you that way."

_Oh, Hells, just like every other woman, _Bishop thought, _I knew she'd see me as a bed-_

_Wait, what?_

"What did you say, Cari?"

"I said I never saw you that way. I saw an interesting man who just happened to be handsome as well. And good in bed. I never saw you as _only _a good time," she said seductively, trailing her fingers down his chest.

_Well, that was, was-_

_Unexpected. By the Hells, she's the first woman to actually say that to me._

_Huh._

"Are you all right?" Cari inquired. "You seem to be drifting away on me."

"Just thinking," Bishop breathed, carefully easing her back onto her bedroll, "We do have a lot in common, don't we?"

Cari bit her lip as he leaned in, blazing a trail of heat up to her ear, gasping as he bit her neck, soothing the dull ache with a kiss.

"Yeah, Bishop, we do."

She groaned as he moved downwards, gently nibbling on the tender skin of her neck. "And here I was thinking that you weren't the type to bed a woman twice in a row."

Bishop chuckled as he sat back and pulled his tunic over his head; a moan escaping his lips as Cari gently traced the scars on his chest. "Well now, if you're complaining about it, I'm sure I can find something _else_ to do."

"Who said I was complaining? I was merely curious," she teased, tugging on the waistband of his trousers as he stripped off her tunic, smiling as she tangled her fingers in the dark hair that covered his stomach.

"As am I, Carianna," he breathed, pulling off her smallclothes and drinking in the way the moonlight illuminated her pale body, "I am _especially_ curious as to how you ended up with those piercings."

"Hmm," she purred, smiling as he wriggled out of his trousers, tossing them aside and raising his eyebrows as her hands slid up his powerful chest muscles, "I think that's a story for _another_ time. Maybe you can explain your _other_ tattoos then as well."

"As long as you do the same, it's rare I meet a woman wearing as many tattoos as you have," Bishop smirked as he leaned forward, resting on his forearms, his honey-brown eyes smoldering in the darkness. "I look forward to it."


	12. Rangers and Dogs

(**Author's note: **All right, this is a chance to really expand the viciousness of Cari's character, since she's tired, stressed, and frustrated when they meet Malin for the first time. So, enjoy the catfight! Everyone's so mean in this chapter...)

"Ah, Malin, still playing girl-of-the-wood?" Bishop sneered.

_Who in Cyric's name is _this_ girl?_ Cari thought tiredly. _I really don't want any problems right now, I'm exhausted._

Cari and her companions had been traveling up and down the Sword Coast for nearly a month, and she was starting to feel the strain of her predicament. Not only had she put up with a constant stream of complaints from Qara: "My feet hurt," "Sand doesn't know what he's doing," "Fish, again? Can't we have something else?" but she also had to endure the frustration of any personal time with Bishop being scant and often rushed, for more often than not someone would come calling and prove to be an unwelcome disruption. It was only around disturbance number seven that the entire party learned that Bishop knew how to use his skinning knife as both a projectile and a deterrent to any _future_ interruptions. Despite their best efforts, Bishop's _own_ frustration with their situation was starting to show as well.

Cari stared at the girl as she sneered at Bishop. "I was wondering when you'd drag your pathetic carcass back to Port Llast, Bishop," the girl scowled. "You need a tumble? You always seemed to come crawling back when you needed _that_."

_Uh-oh, ex-lover. This is going to get _**awk-ward**, Cari thought, smiling calmly, _If not violent._

"You waited for me? I'm touched," Bishop said snidely. "But it's not like you could have tracked me down if you wanted to. And no, I want nothing of the sort, we're here on business. I don't mind mixing business with pleasure… but I mind mixing pleasure with _you_."

Malin opened her mouth to retort when Cari silenced her with a look. "If you have a problem with Bishop, I suggest you forget it while _I_ am here," she snarled, stepping between them, "Unless you wish to find yourself on the wrong end of a sword, that is."

The half-elf glared at Cari. "Who's your new mistress, Bishop? I didn't think any woman could break you, but maybe you were lying about that _too_."

_Hmm, women are so easily angered, _Bishop thought_. Especially Malin. Time to fan that flame a bit, I think. _

He chuckled suggestively. "Cari never tried to _break_ or shackle me as you did, Malin. She _enjoys_ me for who I _am_, not what she _wants_ me to be. But you're right, I haven't introduced you two."

"Carianna, this is Malin. This half-elf slip of a girl nearly got me - and _herself_ - killed several times over while scouting the Luskan border. Impatience, incompetence, these things get scouts _killed_," Bishop said condescendingly. "This is what happens when you're not fully an elf… and not fully human. It's like you've always got something to prove."

_Oh, look at that, Cari's wearing that seductive little side-smile I love so much. And Malin's seething. Perfect!_

Cari grinned, gasping as Bishop leaned in to bite at her neck. "Well, it's a good thing _I_ have you instead of her," she managed.

Malin narrowed her eyes as Cari's hands traveled down Bishop's chest, grabbing the belt around his hips and pulling them towards her.

"And who's your charming friend, Bishop? Another trophy?" she said frostily, her lip curling as Cari stroked the buckle on Bishop's bandolier. "Or is she merely another one of your whores?"

_Ha, it's working. I always enjoyed tormenting Malin, _Bishop thought triumphantly.

"Do those pointy, half-blood ears of yours not work anymore, Malin? I said that _this_ is Carianna," Bishop purred, leaning in to kiss the tender skin underneath Cari's ear, "Squire of Neverwinter, the orc-slayer of Old Owl Well, and the 'so-called' butcher of Ember. She could also slit your throat in your sleep and no one would know until they found your cold corpse in the morning," he finished pompously, the smug smile on his lips vanishing instantly as Cari kicked him in the shin, a murderous look on her face.

"Ah, so she's _not_ one of your whores, she's a trophy?" Malin said scathingly, anger dripping off her words. "Good to know she's _stupid_ enough to let you use her."

_Perfect, absolutely perfect,_ Bishop chuckled,_ Malin's livid. _

Bishop wrapped an arm around Cari's shoulders, enjoying Malin's discomfort as Cari placed a hand on his chest. "Ah, girl, you wound me," Cari laughed disdainfully. "How do you know Bishop, anyway?"

"Oh, this should be rich," he said, amused. "Go on, Malin, tell all."

"Not while _he's_ here. I can barely stomach the smell as it is. You want to know, ask when _he's_ not around."

Cari grinned and turned to Bishop. "Well then, why don't you and the others go look around while I buy Malin here a drink? If you find something you like, here's some gold. I'm not giving you the whole bag, Neeshka's here," she winked.

Bishop cupped a hand around Cari's neck, tangling his fingers in her hair. He leaned in; a small smile playing on his features as he lightly brushed his lips across her cheek, causing her to shiver in delight.

"Of course, what_ever_ my fair leader desires, she shall have," he said suggestively, throwing Malin a look before kissing Cari rather aggressively, more passionately than she was accustomed to.

"Oh gods, I'm going to be sick," Sand said dryly, "Did you notice they always do this in taverns, too?"

"You're not alone, I think I might be too," Casavir groaned, "And no, I hadn't noticed until you mentioned it."

Bishop pulled away, growling as Cari shook her head. "You get going; I'll meet up with you later."

"Are you sure you'll be all right, Cari?" Neeshka whispered as Bishop led the way out into Port Llast.

"I'll be fine," Cari said quietly, smiling as Neeshka raised an eyebrow. "If I need you, I know where you are."

Neeshka pursed her lips. "All right, we'll be around," she said loftily, glaring at Malin as she pranced off, her tail swishing back and forth. Cari smiled to herself as she grabbed a couple tankards of mead and brought them back to the table, Malin eyeing her angrily.

"So," Cari said quietly, propping her feet up on the table and tilting the chair back on two legs, resting the tankard on her stomach, "How _do_ you know Bishop?"

Malin sneered. "I knew him quite intimately for quite some time; I thought you could figure that out, being his fearless leader and all that."

_Hey, don't start with me, _Cari thought, frowning_. I just asked a simple question. If you want to start out with insults, I'll throw them back at you._

"The only thing I had trouble figuring out is why he would consider bedding a woman like you when there are women like _me_ around," Cari shot back. "Now please, tell me more, I'm curious."

"All right, I'll humor you, but only because I have nothing _better_ to do. Though, I have a question for you – why is he with you? Loyalty isn't high on his list, and he doesn't help _anyone_."

"Maybe I have _other_ ways of making him stick around," Cari winked, laughing as she took a drink of mead.

"Maybe you should take me seriously," Malin said coldly, "Unless you really _are_ his whore."

_Watch it,_ Cari thought to herself, _don't push me, ranger. You struck first._

"What _problem_ do you _have_ with Bishop anyway?" Cari asked icily, tilting the chair forward so the legs hit the floor with a loud _thunk_, "And perhaps you should tell me before I get… _nasty_."

Malin sneered. "I didn't listen once either, but I learned my lesson, trust me. Defend Bishop all you want, but you're only going to drive him away."

"He seemed to appreciate me standing up to _you_."

"He hates being in anyone's debt, almost as much as he hates Luskans," Malin said coolly. She took a sip of mead and shuddered, "The things he's done to them at the border…"

"You do realize I'm supposedly a _killer_, right?" Cari said. "And I find a man of his… _skills_ to be most welcome."

"I could care less, Carianna," Malin snarled, a hint of jealousy shining through, "That's why I couldn't travel with him anymore, but he's good, I'll give him that. Just don't turn your back on him. You'll likely find a dagger in it."

"My relationship with him doesn't need your advice," Cari growled, "I'm far from naïve, Malin."

The half-elf shook her head. "You don't get it, by saying that, he's already got you. Bishop doesn't serve anyone but himself, that's just who he is. _You_ certainly can't handle him, of that I'm sure."

"I don't _try_ to handle Bishop," Cari said, draining the tankard, "Although certain parts of him enjoy _being_ handled," she finished, tracing her lip with her finger.

"What in the Hells makes you think you can keep _him _around, you ignorant twit?" Malin asked incredulously. "I mean, without shackling him to you."

"My dear girl, it's unfortunate that _you_ had to 'shackle him' to keep him around all the time," Cari drawled, running her fingers through her hair, taking great care to allow the sunlight to sparkle of her dark tresses, "_I _only shackle him when he wants it. Or he shackles me, we're not picky."

Malin choked on her mead. "You-you _what?_"

Cari smiled maliciously, enjoying the look of discomfort on Malin's face. "Speaking of naïve, you poor, naïve girl, to think you could handle a man like that… I pity you," she sighed, a look of pure ecstasy on her face as she fingered the buckle that lay atop her breasts, "I _truly_ pity you. Bishop and I bond together so well, we just… _meld_ together," she finished, emphasizing her point by making a lewd gesture with her hands.

"Gods, you-you're awful," Malin spat, revolted.

"Says the hypocrite," Cari said coldly. "If you can't handle insults being thrown at you then _don't_ throw them at me!"

"I can handle insults just fine," Malin growled, "I just-this is ridiculous, you are a horrible, despicable person-"

"Do you want to know why Bishop stays with me, Malin? Because I am able to give him what he craves, what he _never_ got from you. And he _keeps_ coming back for _my _comforts, darling. Over and over again, for hours on end. He was _obviously_ too much of a man for you, _dear_," Cari said cruelly, tossing her hair over her shoulder and leaning backwards, calling attention to the way her leathers pulled over her breasts.

"He enjoyed _my_ comforts as well, Cari," Malin snapped, "It wasn't all that long ago he shared _my_ bedroll."

"I'm _sure_ you kept him satisfied in your _limited_ ways," Cari taunted, "But how _often_ did he lie with you, Malin? Was it daily? Or weekly, when he could stomach it, when he _needed_ it? You know that man's insatiable, he really is. He knows how to make a woman's blood run hot as fire, too. I mean, just _look _at him! The gods blessed his body generously-"

"Stop, stop it! You are insufferable. Now I know why you're with Bishop, you can both be snide, sarcastic, violent and lustful together!" Malin said scathingly, slamming the tankard down and sloshing mead on the table, "Bishop's _far_ from wonderful, Cari! He's arrogant and cruel and malicious and-"

"Those are harsh words from a former lover. Did he do something to disappoint you? Did he take your beloved maidenhead from you and then leave you behind?"

"He-I, how did you know?" Malin blurted out, caught off-guard, "Did he do the same to you?"

"Well, I know _now_,"Cari laughed callously, "And far from it; I haven't had that for years. And unlike you, wench, he hasn't left _me_."

"I'm starting to see why people think you slaughtered that defenseless village," Malin spat, her eyes narrowing.

"I did no such thing," Cari growled, her eyes flashing dangerously, "Everything was dead, and I mean _everything_. Even _I_ have scruples, you know. No children, no elders, no families, no cripples, and no _cats_, no matter how much Karnwyr asks me to."

"Get to the man through his pet, eh?" Malin asked maliciously, "It's the oldest trick in the book."

"My father was a ranger; the best there could ever hope to be. I learned some things from him - and from Bishop too."

"I don't care," Malin snarled, standing up and slamming her hands down on the table, "This conversation is over."

"Fine by me, you were boring me anyway," Cari said dryly, pushing her tankard aside and rising from the table.

"You're quite the bitch. Maybe that's why Bishop's with you."

"I'm not going to continue this discussion with you, Malin," Cari said, walking towards the door. "I have better things to do than to try to argue with a half-breed ranger, so, if you'll excuse me-"

She anticipated the attack before she heard Malin move: the half-elf swung at Cari's head and she ducked, parrying the blow with an elbow to Malin's stomach.

"Come now, is that the _best _you can do, mongrel?" Cari taunted, easily dodging another of Malin's blows. "You make this too easy, you know." The smile faded from her face as Malin drew a dagger from her belt. "Oh, are we using weapons then, bitch?" Cari smirked, "It still won't help you best me."

"Don't call me those names," Malin barked.

"I'll call you whatever I want to, you half-mongrel bitch," Cari mocked, "So-"

She screamed in pain as Malin threw the dagger, plunging it deep into her thigh. Clenching her teeth, she pulled the blade from her flesh, wiping the blood on her arm. Despite her leg trembling, she smiled cruelly.

"Oh, you _really_ shouldn't have done that," Cari hissed, blood running down her injured leg, "You _really_ shouldn't have."


	13. Prayers and Rabbits

(**Author's note: **I just wanted to thank everyone who's been leaving me reviews, signed or otherwise, because they really mean a lot to me! They always make me happy to read them! Now, for this chapter, it's the aftermath of Cari and Malin's catfight! Enjoy the angst!!)

"So, you really think this is a good bow, Sir Bishop?" Grobnar asked, admiring his new weapon with a childlike reverence.

Bishop rolled his eyes as they all headed back to the tavern. "I've told you three times now, _yes_, it's a good bow. I'm not sure what else I can say about it. If you like it, that's great."

"Oh yes, I very much like it, I must thank Mistress Carianna for giving you the gold to buy it!" Grobnar squealed excitedly, "Perhaps a song would do…"

"Speaking of Cari," Casavir muttered to Bishop, raising an eyebrow, "I wonder how her conversation with Malin is going…"

"Ah, Cari can handle herself," Bishop scoffed, stopping suddenly as the door to the Alliance Arms burst open and Malin flew out, landing on her back about ten feet from the door. He noticed her face was bruised and battered.

"You were right, Cari _can_ handle herself," Casavir scowled, his frown deepening as Cari crossed over the threshold, fists clenched and bloodied, her lip split and her hair loose and sweaty. He noticed the crazed, feral light of battle shining in her eyes and his narrowed. "Cari?" he shouted.

Cari said nothing; she simply shot Casavir a vicious look as she launched herself onto Malin's chest, laughing cruelly as the half-elf struggled under Cari's larger frame.

"Oh, dear, what is wrong with Mistress Carianna?" Grobnar asked, blissfully unaware, "She seems to be rather angry." Bishop and Casavir looked at each other and sprinted forward, Grobnar and Sand on their heels.

Grabbing Malin's hair with one hand, Cari yanked her head up and slammed it back into the dirt, causing even Bishop to wince. Malin cried out in pain as Cari smashed her fist into her jaw, causing the ranger to cough blood onto Cari's face. Uncaring, Cari bashed her fist into Malin's nose, the half-elf screaming as her bones shattered.

Shaking with rage, Cari fumbled with the sheath on her uninjured thigh, nearly ripping her dagger through the leather. Wielding it wildly, she thrust it downwards, barely missing Malin's neck, the blade sinking into the soft soil. In anger, Cari smashed Malin's head into the ground again, knocking her unconscious.

Casavir cried out as Cari pulled her dagger from the earth and raised it high once more, aiming for the artery in Malin's neck.

"Stop her!" he bellowed, lunging forward and knocking Cari to the ground. He pinned her arms to her sides as he stood up, grunting slightly as she fought and screamed, slicing at his arms with her dagger. "And grab that!"

Bishop ducked as Cari kicked out, her foot narrowly missing his head. He wrenched the dagger from her grasp and backed away, his expression half-admiring, half-fearful. He watched as she continued to writhe and struggle in Casavir's arms, the fear slowly turning into lust, desire.

_Hells, look at her passion, her fire. I didn't know _that_ lurked beneath that surface of hers._

His desire turned to concern as he noticed the large slit in her armor, the flesh and muscle of her thigh showing through.

_Wait, is-is she wounded? Did Malin stab her? I didn't want Cari to get stabbed; I just wanted her to knock Malin around a little bit!_

"Sand, do _something!_" Casavir cried, yelping as Cari slammed her foot into his knee, her black hair flying around her head as she wrestled against Casavir's grip, "If she gets loose, Malin's dead!"

"Oh, gods-here!" Sand said, diving into his knapsack and emerging with a small scroll in his hand. He carefully dodged another attack from Cari and shouted the incantation in her ear. She gasped, her eyes slowly closing as she relaxed into Casavir's arms.

"What did you do to her, elf?" Bishop growled as Malin regained consciousness.

"I put her out, she's in an enchanted sleep," Sand spat, bending down to give Malin a quick once-over, "Cari's unconscious for the time being, but she'll wake up in a few hours and be as angry as a dire bear. Where are the others?"

"Who cares?" Bishop snarled, looking down at Malin. "You just _had_ to say something _stupid_, didn't you?" Malin stared up at him, aghast that he would accuse her of starting it.

"Bishop, now is _not _the time. We need to get out of here. Here, take Cari," Casavir snapped, carefully placing the assassin's limp form in Bishop's arms, "I'm going to stay behind and heal Malin. I'll wait for the others, and then follow you. Stick to the main road; you said there was a campsite only a few miles ahead. You shouldn't be that far in front of us," he said frantically as the barman came out, broom in hand and looking murderous, "Now, _go!_"

* * *

A few hours later, Bishop paced back and forth beside a campfire, angrily flipping Cari's dagger over in his hands.

_Casavir better not be getting any ideas right now, I don't like this. I know Cari has to come out of that damn sleep, but can't Sand help?_

_And I can't believe Malin stabbed her, I-I never wanted Cari to get hurt, I just wanted to make Malin jealous over leaving me._

_Well, and to show her who I've got now, but that's different._

He eyed the paladin closely, watching as he cradled Cari in his arms, her body curled like a cat against his chest, a blood-soaked bandage wound tightly against her left thigh. Casavir had a hand wrapped in Cari's hair to hold her ear close to his lips, the silence of the night broken by the steady rumble of his deep, soothing voice.

_That's it, I'm not waiting any longer, I'm going to find out what's holding him up. Cari should have been awake an hour ago._

His face darkened in fury, Bishop stormed over to where Casavir sat with Cari. "What's going on, Casavir? Why isn't she awake yet?"

"I don't know," Casavir admitted, "I keep trying to get her out of it, but she isn't waking up. She has retreated into her own mind right now, and the only thing I can use I have to wait for. I'm drained after healing Malin, and Cari won't fight this herself. I-I'm sorry, Bishop."

"Great, I'm going to _kill_ that elf," Bishop snarled, gripping Cari's dagger tightly, "I'm going to kill-"

"How about you take that anger and channel it towards killing us some supper, eh?" Casavir said quietly, "Because Cari will need some warm food when she wakes up. Go take your frustration out on an unsuspecting deer."

Bishop sneered. "Fine, but I'm only going because I hate waiting like this." He grabbed his bow and stalked off into the darkness.

Casavir shook his head as he looked down at Cari, her already-pale skin now deathly-white and waxy.

_Oh mighty Tyr, help me, I can't wake her up. She's supposed to be waking up. Tyr, please, bless me with my prayer so I may break this woman free from her own mind. She needs to go on; she has not yet fulfilled her purpose on this plane._

Relief filled his heart as the familiar warmth of Tyr washed over him, his aura glowing brightly once more. He pulled Cari's lips close to his own; her faint breaths warm on his skin. He smiled slightly as he brushed her hair away from her face and summoned what strength he could from his heart.

_Let's hope this works._

Casavir gently stroked her hair as he prayed, willing what power he could to flow into her, trying to break her from her mind, from her dreams.

His heart leapt as she stirred feebly in his arms; he jumped as her back suddenly arched and she gasped for air, like a drowning man breeching the surface of a lake. She trembled as her eyes snapped open, hazy and unfocused.

"You're awake," he smiled as she took deep, ragged breaths, her eyes still glassy.

"Cas?" she coughed, "What's going on?"

"You were unconscious," he whispered, gently cradling her head in his hand, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone, her lips still barely an inch from his.

Cari gazed up at him, bleary-eyed. "And you brought me out?"

"Yes, I did. Took a long time, too."

She smiled weakly. "Thanks, Cas," she murmured, "I owe you."

"You owe me nothing," he said softly, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek, "Well, you owe me for scaring the wits out of me."

"How come?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't wake up," Casavir said, exasperated, squeezing her tightly, "I was so afraid for you, Cari!"

Cari returned his embrace, smiling to herself as she nuzzled his neck. "I'm sorry to have scared you, Cas."

"Ha, don't apologize to me _yet_, Cari;" Casavir said seriously, "You and I are going to have to have a talk about what you did to Malin."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, pulling back slightly, "That you had no right to try to kill her like that."

"What are you talking about?" Cari moaned, her body stiffening against his grip, "She tried to kill _me_."

"But you didn't have to attack her the way you did. Towards the end, she was obviously unconscious. You needn't have tried to kill her."

"Cas," Cari said, indignant, "She would have killed me. I simply protected myself."

"You lost control, Cari," Casavir said sternly, "You treated it like a battle, and though I do not condone them, it was a simple bar fight, nothing more."

"It wasn't a simple bar fight," Cari spat, pushing against Casavir's chest. "It was-was, I don't know _what_ it was, but it was far from simple!"

"You didn't need to attack her like that, Cari!" Casavir shouted, holding her tighter, "Please, show some restraint!"

"Why _bother?_" Cari said, tears welling in her eyes, "I'm a killer anyway! I could ask you why you're even _traveling_ with me! I'm a known killer, Casavir, everyone in Neverwinter knows it, everyone in Port Llast knows it, and I wouldn't be surprised if the entire Sword Coast knows it! If I'm a murderer, why are you with me, huh?"

"Why am I _with_ you?" Casavir roared, his jaw clenched in anger. "I am with you because you are my friend, Cari! You helped save me from myself! You pulled me out of a dark place in my life, Cari, and I _thank_ you for that. _And_," he growled, clutching her to his chest as she tried to pull away again, "I don't think you're _half_ as bad as you think you are."

She stopped struggling, her eyes wide with shock. "What?" she whispered.

"I said: I don't think you're as bad as you think you are," he said softly, his hold on her loosening as she relaxed slightly, "I think you have a horrible past, yes, but the Cari _I_ see and know isn't anywhere near as bad as what _you_ see."

"What-?"

"You two like hugging a lot, don't you?" Bishop said snidely, dropping the carcasses of a couple of large rabbits onto the ground. "I see you're awake, Cari."

"Yes, I am," Cari grinned, "Thanks to Casavir."

_Yes, thanks to Casavir. The great healer_, Bishop thought bitterly. _I can't even help her when she's injured. Poisoned, yeah, but she's pretty much immune to it anyway._

"It took some time, but she pulled herself out of it," Casavir said warmly, smiling at her.

"Then he started preaching," Cari smirked.

"Sorry, Cari, but you know I'm right-"

"Did anyone notice that I brought food?" Bishop snapped, pointing to the kills. "Now, if you don't mind, how about you let Cari get up?"

"She's weak, Bishop," Casavir said matter-of-factly, "She needs rest. Help her by rolling out her bedroll, will you?"

"Fine," Bishop snapped, untying the leather straps that kept it tightly rolled.

"And stay _out_ of it," Casavir said sternly.

"_What?"_

"Bishop, she needs rest, and if you're bothering her, she won't get any."

"She won't be the only one," Bishop muttered.

"Let her rest."

"I don't have to listen to you, Casavir."

"Yes, you do, and you'll leave Cari alone tonight, understood?"

"Since when did you have the right to tell me what to do with my woman?" Bishop spat, angry.

_Wait, since when is Cari _my_ woman? Oh, Hells…_

"Since when is Cari _your_ woman, Bishop?" Casavir asked, confused, "She's her own woman-"

"Oh, gods, will you two shut _up_?" Cari said angrily, "I'm drained and I'm hungry. Will you two help me?"

Both men glared at each other but said nothing. Bishop smoothed out her bedroll as Casavir gently picked her up and laid her down, taking great care to make sure she was comfortable.

"Cas, thanks for everything," Cari said quietly, "Can you go tell the others I'm awake?"

"Sure," he nodded, rising to his feet and walking over to a separate camp a short distance away. Bishop made to follow when Cari grabbed his hand.

"Come back later," she breathed, "Cas can't keep an eye on me _all_ the time. And I think the best thing for me is to get my blood flowing."

"Now _that_ is something I can do," he winked, kissing her softly before standing up and grabbing the carcasses of the dead rabbits. Cari smiled as he disappeared into the darkness.

_He really called me 'his woman?' The fiercely independent part of me is screaming in anger, but the other part…_

_Huh, wow._

Cari's train of thought was broken as Grobnar came bounding into view, mandolin in hand. "Casavir thought a song might cheer you up, Cari! So I came over!"

_Casavir, I'm going to kill you, _Cari sulked, a forced smile on her face as Grobnar started to sing.

_Oh, I'm _really_ going to kill you._


	14. Bandages and Rivers

(**Author's note: **I'd like to once again thank all those who have reviewed my work, it means a tremendous amount to me to know that you're reading it and enjoying it! This is a more emotional chapter for Cari and Bishop, it gives us a chance to watch them grow a bit! And their interactions are emotional setup for other chapters too, so Bishop's been softened, character-wise. I have a good reason for it though, I promise! Enjoy!)

Cari awoke during the night to someone tugging on the bandage wrapped around her thigh.

_Bloody hell, that tickles. That tick-no, that hurts. Damn it, that hurts!_

Her eyes snapped open, her leg searing in pain. "What in the Hells-?"

"Will you be quiet?" a voice growled, "You'll wake up Casavir."

Cari sat up and was surprised to see Bishop tightening a fresh bandage around her leg, a pile of blood-soaked gauze lying nearby.

"You bled through this one," he muttered, nodding at the ground, "I didn't want your wound to get infected."

"I didn't know you cared," Cari teased, the searing pain now a dull ache. Bishop avoided her gaze.

"I didn't know Malin was going to stab you," he mumbled, sticking a finger between her bare thigh and the dressing, ensuring it wasn't too tight.

"Nah, I knew I was going to get stabbed," she said dismissively, "I got angry. I called her things. She stabbed me. It's happened before."

"What did you call her?"

"I called her a half-blood, a mongrel," Cari groaned, wincing as her leg throbbed again, "then a half-breed, a _mongrel _half-breed-"

"All things I've called her in the past," Bishop whispered, smirking, "But she shouldn't have stabbed you for _that_."

"I probably would have stabbed her first, but she beat me to it. Some of the things she said about you…"

_Oh, Hells, how much did Malin say?_ Bishop gulped, his heart racing uncomfortably,_ how much does Cari know now? It's not like her own past is spotless, but what _I've_ done…_

"What did she say?" he asked in what he hoped was a casual manner, "About me?"

"Well, lie down with me and I'll tell you," Cari winked, gingerly extending her injured leg and sprawling out on her bedroll. Bishop chuckled softly as he stretched out beside her, propping himself up on his elbow, his other hand resting on her stomach.

"So, what did she say?" he repeated, gently easing her onto her side to face him.

"Oh, _lots_ of things," she sighed, the corners of her lips twitching as he ran his fingers through her hair, "She told me that I couldn't handle you and that you were arrogant, cruel and malicious-"

"_That_ shouldn't have angered you," Bishop scoffed, "It's the truth. Well, she was wrong on one point: you _handle_ me _very_ well."

"I told her that, she didn't appreciate it. She also told me that I needed to 'shackle' you to keep you around."

_Ha, I knew it. _ Bishop thought triumphantly. _ I know she'll try and shackle me now, I-_

"I don't want to 'shackle' you, Bishop," she said quietly, tracing the tattoo on his neck with a fingernail, "I'd rather you lie in my bed because you want to, not because I'm forcing you to do so."

_I knew it, I-_

_Wait, _what?

"What, Cari?" he asked, bewildered. He carefully wrapped a callused hand around the bare knee below her bandage.

She arched an eyebrow at him, resting her hand on his hip. "Your hearing must be going. I said that I don't want to shackle you, Bishop, I'd rather you stay with me because you want to. If not because of the danger and excitement I bring into your life on a fairly regular basis, perhaps with… _other_ methods."

Bishop stared at her, feeling a pleasant shiver run down his spine as emerald bored into amber. Cari pulled his head down to kiss him, a familiar heat spreading beneath his skin as her tongue flicked against his lips, her fingernails brushing the back of his neck.

"Did Malin say anything else?" he managed.

"She said something _ridiculous_ about you and Luskans, and how you'd tortured them on the border," Cari said quietly, leaning in to nuzzle his unshaven jaw before giving him a quick kiss, "that's all."

Bishop's heart drummed in his ears as he grabbed Cari's waist and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. "And?"

"It's not a bad way to live," Cari shrugged, settling onto his chest, "I mean… you've seen what _I've_ done. I know Cas thinks I'm a better person than I think I am, but that doesn't erase my past. As long as they were fighters, not children or elders… I can't tell you otherwise, or else I'd be a hypocrite. You're your own man, Bishop."

_It's good to hear someone accept it, I knew Cari would. It's nice to have someone on my side for once._

_It's also rather pleasing to have someone who understands you, instead of judging you all the time._

"Really?" Bishop asked, still somewhat taken aback by her response, "It's nice to hear someone willing to agree with me, rather than judging me and running in fear."

Cari smiled. "You and I have more in common than we realized, Bishop."

He gazed into her eyes, brushing her long hair away from her face. "You're a surprising woman, Cari," he said softly.

"You're quite the fascinating man yourself, Bishop," she murmured, giggling as his hands slipped under her tunic, "And your fingers tickle."

"Hmm, ticklish, are you?" he teased, a devilish smile on his face as he lightly ran his fingers up her sides. She gasped, laughing she arched her back. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back down, drinking in the warmth of her body and breathing in the sweet scent on her skin. "You smell delicious."

"_What?_" Cari laughed, playfully indignant.

"You always smell like vanilla," he breathed in again, "and cinnamon. I like it."

"I'm glad, though thank Sand, otherwise I'd smell like sweat and blood instead. I'll have to tell you the story behind it sometime," she whispered, giving him the barest hint of a kiss and enjoying the way his lips trembled in anticipation, "but, sadly, my leg puts me out of action for this evening."

Bishop raised his eyebrows. "I am now even _sorrier_ about Malin stabbing you."

"I'll be fine, I'm also feeling mildly off-color, I think Shandra's cooking got to me again," Cari shrugged, "I just need rest, and I'll be good as new by morning. And I think all this talking will wake up Cas anyway."

A deep voice came from nearby and she buried her face into Bishop's shoulder, her sigh of annoyance audible as he dropped his head back onto her bedroll.

"Sorry," Casavir said sleepily, a hint of amusement in his words, "Too late. Go to sleep, you two. I'll take watch, seeing as I'm already awake."

Bishop groaned and dropped his arms to his sides; Cari yelped and gritted her teeth as his hand accidentally smacked against her damaged leg. He winced and a wave of guilt washed over him.

_If it weren't for you and your desire to one-up Malin, she wouldn't be injured, _his conscience snapped.

_Yeah, yeah, I know. I regret her getting stabbed, okay? I didn't want Cari to get hurt._

_Then tell her. Tell her you're actually sorry._

Bishop looked away, giving Cari the opportunity to sprinkle light kisses along his cheekbone. "I'm sorry you got stabbed, Cari, it was not my intent. I just wanted to make Malin jealous. I didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry."

Cari smiled warmly, capturing his lips for another kiss. "I know, and it's okay. Things happen. I am grateful that you changed my bandage for me, if it had sat there all night things might have gotten worse. Thank you, Bishop, I appreciate it. I do think we should get some sleep, though I wouldn't mind some company."

"Sleep would be good," he said quietly, "In lieu of _other_ things, of course." He eyed her closely for a few moments as she ran her fingers through his hair, twisting his short strands between her fingertips.

_It's been so long since anyone's shown me respect, _Bishop thought sadly, utterly surprised, And_ since anyone's really thanked me for helping them. Especially a woman._

_It's nice to be appreciated for once, it really is._

Bishop grinned to himself as Cari settled in beside him, snuggling her back up against his chest and pulling his arm around her waist. He linked his fingers with hers and buried his face in her dark tresses, enjoying the way his arm rose and fell in time with her deep, rhythmic breaths.

"And you're welcome," he whispered, smiling into her hair as he fell asleep.

A few days later, Sand sat by himself on a large rock, the remains of the morning's campfire still smoldering and an array of odd items strewn across his lap.

_All right, we have the assassin's ring, the quartermaster's log, the alteration powder, and the piece of the corpse; _he thought excitedly, _I think this is all we need! By Mystra, I can't see Torio slithering her way out of _this_ one! I must tell Cari, we need to get back to Neverwinter as quickly as possible._

Sand leapt up from his seat and made his way to the nearby river, hiking his robes up to his knees in an attempt to carefully avoid the mud that marred the landscape.

_Ugh, I think I'll leave the wilderness to my dear friend Elanee, I prefer bathing too much._

_That, and Casavir snores like a dire bear. I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks…_

_Where _is_ Cari? I know she said she planned on bathing, but this river is rather lengthy and-_

_Oh, gods, there she is, _Sand groaned as he reached the riverbank,_ and why am I _not_ surprised by this?_

"Are you sure you should be exercising that wounded leg so soon, hmm?" the elf drawled, thoroughly enjoying Cari's shriek of surprise. He chortled as she quickly untangled her legs from around Bishop's waist and dropped back into the water. She pressed her body against the ranger's chest in an attempt to cover herself.

"Sand!" she cried, "What-why-I'm-"

"My dear girl," Sand smirked, "_Must_ you insist on testing the odds on my contraceptive potions?"

"What do you need, Sand?" Cari asked quietly, a brilliant flush rising in her pale cheeks.

"Well, _now_ I need a sufficient spell to purge the mind, erase that image of the ranger permanently."

"Ha-ha. A decent blow to the head does the same thing you know."

"Such aggression," Sand sighed, shrugging his shoulders in mock disappointment, "And after all I've done for you…"

"All right, all right," Cari smiled, "No blows to the head, I promise. Now, what's on your mind?"

"I shall ignore the glare of death I am receiving from your male counterpart and explain the current situation. I believe we have collected enough evidence to successfully counter Torio's accusation, and given nobody shoots their mouth off – my, Bishop, if I could channel the look you're giving me I could kill a horde of trolls – we stand a good chance of winning the trial."

"Are you certain?" Cari said eagerly, unsuccessfully stifling a giggle as Bishop stroked her back.

"Dear girl, do not question my certainty. The chance to humiliate Torio in front of all of Neverwinter is something I do not take lightly."

"Then we can head back to Neverwinter tomorrow!"

"Granted you don't freeze to death in the river there, precisely."

"Oh, I think I'll find a way to keep warm. Would you kindly go back and tell everyone that we leave for Neverwinter tomorrow morning? Oh, and also tell Qara that if she wants something different for dinner tonight, _she_ can catch it, Bishop's not her personal game hunter?"

"Ah, I get a chance to reprimand Qara as well? It must be my lucky day."

"Thanks, Sand," Cari grinned, stealing a kiss with Bishop as Sand disappeared into the trees.

"Oh, and you might consider covering yourself up, Cari," the elf called over his shoulder, "The glare from the sun bouncing off your milky-white backside is more effective than _any_ blindness spell."

_Ah, I love irritating her_; he smirked, chuckling as Cari's cries of indignation were soon followed by vigorous splashing.

_It's far too easy at times._


	15. Secrets and Lies, Part 1

(**Author's note: **So, after being under the influence of cold medicine for my last chapter, this one is a two-parter! We get a glimpse into Cari's troubled past, and part of what makes her who she is. The second half shall come later. I want to thank everyone for reading it and reviewing, I appreciate it! Enjoy! Thanks to Cro-Magnon and Sticksie for their help with this!)

"You're joking. You're bloody joking," Cari said, smacking her forehead, "So, this entire trial was just a spectacle that will be settled in blood anyway?"

"Gods, I had hoped she didn't know about that," Sand said wearily, shaking his head, "And it appears so. My sincerest apologies."

"And who will fight for you, Torio?" Nevalle shouted over the angry cries of the crowd, "This is no battle of words; and though Carianna appears to be more than a match for you in that arena, I would like to see you match your wits against the sword of a true soldier of Neverwinter."

"Luskan is not the aggressor here, and I only wish to see _justice_ done," Torio whined, feigning sadness, "But I cannot defend myself in this matter. Is there not one here who would champion the people of Ember?"

"Other than me?" Cari spat, her lip curling.

The courtroom was silent, then a deep, guttural voice spoke, causing Cari's heart to plunge into her stomach.

"I will."

Her breath caught in her throat. _No. No way. That bastard can't be here, he died in the war… he's not here… he _can't_ be here!_

Cari narrowed her eyes as the man stood up. He was as broad and massive as a grizzly bear. "I have heard these _lies_, and will answer them, with my blade – in Luskan's name."

_It is,_ she thought, horror chilling the blood in her veins to ice, _it's Lorne Starling._

"You," she hissed, blood rushing in her ears, "You-you bastard!"

"Ah, sweet Cari…" Lorne smirked, eyeing the tight-fitting bodice of her gown, "That dress you're wearing doesn't do you justice. That pathetic piece of cloth hides so much, yet tempts so many. Were you trying to tempt _me_ too?"

"What are you doing here?"

"_I_ am Luskan's champion. They've wanted you for a _long_ time, _rose,_" Lorne said sadistically, "And I will _happily_ fight you. How I've missed you…" he continued, looking Cari over and licking his lips, "You look delicious, as usual. You always knew how to carry yourself to entice a man, drive a man _wild_. You _always_ tormented my brother with that body of yours."

A screech of fury escaped her lips as she lunged for him, fists in the air. Both Casavir and Bishop dived for her, but Bishop got there first. He leapt from the spectator's booth and grabbed her around her shoulders, holding her back.

"And _Bishop_, how wonderful to see you as well," Lorne said viciously. He laughed as he spotted the tattoo on the ranger's neck. "I'm glad to see you still have _your _mark. It's said it's a man's past that makes him what he is-"

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Lorne?" Bishop growled, angry color rising in his cheeks.

"Have you tasted what dear Carianna here has to offer?" Lorne taunted, "I personally found it _quite_ satisfying."

"Not nearly as satisfying as it will be to see your head cleaved from your shoulders, Lorne," snarled Bishop, panting slightly as Cari fought against him.

"Let me go, Bishop!" Cari screamed, furious tears in her eyes.

"Yes, Bishop, let her go," Lorne mocked, "Unless you have some _personal_ reason for keeping Cari alive. I wouldn't blame you. She's definitely more talented than the other _whores_ that so often frequent your bed."

"Shut your mouth!" Bishop roared, "Or I will kill you where you stand!"

"What? Does the little ranger not like hearing the truth?" Lorne said in a horrible, mock-baby voice, "Does the little man not want to be reminded of what he was? Or does the little man not want to know what the woman beside him _really_ is?"

"You-you know _nothing_, Lorne!" Bishop bellowed, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice, "I swear, I'll-"

"Please," Lorne said dismissively, "Or you'll do what? Kill me for telling the truth? What? I'd like to see you try, you and your little whore there."

Cari managed to break free from Bishop's grasp and tried to jump over Sand's podium; Bishop snatched her by the waist and pulled her back, using his strength to trap her against his chest.

"So, is the murderer hoping to fight with me now?" Lorne scoffed, walking forward, his eyes alight with violent desire. "I seemed to have no trouble with you all those years ago…"

"You're a bastard, Lorne," Cari barked, spitting in his face, "And I look forward to slitting your throat."

"Stop this foolishness, _now, _both of you!" Nasher commanded, standing up as Lorne wiped his face. "Both challengers will now go on to the Temple to begin the Rite of Tyr."

"Because by the Gods," he whispered to Cari, "we have not come all this way to be denied justice in this final hour. Go now, and prepare for the morning ahead."

"What in Mystra's name was _that_ about?" Sand yelled once they'd left the palace, "Do you want to get us all _hanged_?"

"Yeah, I want to know too," Bishop agreed, eyeing Cari closely as they hurried back to the Flagon, "I have a _right_ to know. You endangered _all_ of us back there! I have _no_ desire to die on the blade of a Neverwinter Guard, of all things."

"It was nothing," Cari snapped, bursting through the door and throwing an irate hello to Duncan, "Drop it."

"Nothing my arse," Bishop growled, following her to her room, "You'd have killed him _there _if you had the chance!"

"It's none of your business, all right? He said some horrible things, and I got angry." Cari threw a bottle of oil and her polishing cloth into her knapsack. "So let it go already!"

"Huh? You've had worse said to you before, and _his _words bothered you? And _don't_ tell me what to do! How exactly is it _none of my business?_"

"Because _you_ wouldn't understand, _that's_ why!"

"And why not?"

"You just-you're not the _type_ to understand, Bishop," she said quickly, stuffing her nightgown into her bag on top of Grobnar's book.

_How can I understand when she won't tell me? The wench! _Bishop thought, rage simmering under his resentment, _all that talk of hers was just that, talk. I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up; she's just like every other woman I've met. She's judging me. I let my guard down for two seconds and I'm proven the fool. I can't _believe_ I was so stupid!_

No _woman plays _me_ for a fool!_

With a ferocious snarl he forced her against the wall, amber eyes blazing. Cari trembled slightly as his fingers dug into her skin; she could feel bruises forming under his fingertips.

"So, you were lying when you said you wouldn't judge me, is that it?" he roared, his temper rising, "You're judging me right now!"

"I'm not, I didn't, it's just-you wouldn't understand!" she cried.

"Of course not," he mocked, his fury at himself spilling over, "I'm just the big, stupid half-wit who isn't worth telling your troubles to. You didn't stop to think that after all the things we have in common, we might have one more, did you? Or am I not good enough to hear your troubles? Then what am I good for, Cari? Killing things? Pleasuring you? What?"

_Oh, no, _Cari thought frantically, _I knew I should have just told him, and now he's angry! I didn't want to upset him; I just didn't want to scare him off!_

"No, you're not!" she shouted, gently grasping his waist, "I mean, yes, you're good, I mean… hells, I just don't want you to have to deal with my troubles, all right?"

"Well fine, deal with them alone, if you think I'm not capable of understanding! Don't bother to give me a chance!" Bishop bellowed, "Or, better yet, why don't you go talk to _Casavir?_ I'm sure _he'd_ understand!"

He turned to leave when Cari grabbed his arm and pulled him back. She looked at him, her eyes pleading.

"I'm sorry, Bishop," she whispered, "I wasn't judging you, I-I just didn't want to burden you with my troubles. This just-it's not a simple case of name-calling, all right?"

Bishop snorted. "Somehow, I figured that," he said sarcastically.

Cari smiled sadly. "This whole thing isn't easy. I'm sorry you thought I was judging you; I wasn't, I just didn't want to shackle you with my issues. Forgive me."

_Oh, _he thought, faintly embarrassed at his outburst, _well then. Ahem. _

_She didn't want to be a burden. Or to shackle me. I-I can respect that. _

_Yeah, _his conscience said derisively, _way to jump to conclusions. Again. Not everyone's judging you _all the time_ you know._

_I know, damn it!_

"Cari, why is this so bloody hard for you?"

"It just _is,_" she said heavily. "Now, I am heading to the temple. Am I going to spend tonight alone, or will you come with me?"

Bishop looked her over, the furious fire in his eyes slowly retreating, his curiosity battling against his better judgment. Curiosity won. "Will you let me in if I go?"

Her lips curled up into a half-smile. "We'll see."

"Then I'll come with; if nothing else I can't have you going into battle without something to remember me by," he murmured, his voice now thick with desire, "I mean, how often does one get the opportunity to desecrate a temple devoted to Tyr?

"Ah, you read my mind," Cari said seductively, her eyes sultry and inviting, "Now, let's get going, shall we?"


	16. Secrets and Lies, Part 2

**Author's note: **All right, here's the reason why Cari became enraged with Lorne at the trial! I will warn you, this chapter is definitely M, for violence and assault. This is a big one, so I'm sorry about the length, but here's a large reason for why Cari turns CE. Enjoy!)

* * *

A few hours later, Cari lay tossing and turning on her bedroll. Bishop groaned uncomfortably beside her; he winced as her foot made contact with his shin, breaking him from his warm and satisfied slumber. She grunted and rolled over, twisting herself up in her blankets. 

_It was Tarsakh of the year I turned fifteen. It was midday, towards the end of the month, when the weather was volatile and unpredictable. Bevil, then eighteen winters, and I were tilling away amongst the wheat. I could feel his eyes on me as I worked. I was young then, it made me blush. I found him enticing._

_We were caught in an afternoon thunderstorm. Bevil grabbed my hand and ran towards their barn, pulling me with him. We laughed as the rain drenched us. He managed to get me inside as the first big thunderclap sounded, making the roof shake._

_Bevil helped me up the ladder that led to the loft. "There's a trunk up there with some blankets," he said, "So we can keep warm until the storm blows itself out."_

_I settled down into the hay as Bevil grabbed a pile of thick blankets. He saw me shivering, wrapped one around me and he smiled, giving me that big, innocent grin of his. He settled in beside me, sliding an arm around my shoulders as I snuggled up against him, my heart hammering in my ears. I'd never been so close to a man before._

_He reached out and cradled my chin. I suppressed a giggle as his calloused hand scraped against the tender skin of my neck. I looked into the face gazing back at me and I was lost, lost in a world of beautiful blue eyes and wild auburn hair._

_My lips quivered as he gave me my first real kiss. Bevil and I had kissed before, but we had been much younger then. But this one… ye gods, it was so different and wonderful. He raised a shaking hand to run his fingers through my damp hair._

_Without speaking, he pulled away and eased the blanket from my shoulders, carefully smoothing it out behind me. We lay down together, facing each other, and my heart started racing. An unsure smile played on his lips. He reached out and caressed my cheek, a blush rising in his own._

"_Cari," he mumbled, "There's something I-I need to tell you."_

"_Yes, Bevil?" I prompted gently, "What is it?"_

_He was silent for several moments. I could see the struggle behind his eyes. Finally, after what seemed like days, he spoke again, his face showing steely resolve._

"_I-I, I love you, Cari," he whispered, looking away from me. He seemed terrified, as though I were going to strike him for being so bold._

_I smiled bashfully as I tangled my fingers in his scruffy hair. "I love you too, Bevil," I murmured, pulling his lips in for another kiss. He wrapped me in his arms. I felt a thrill of excitement as he pulled me close, fusing the few inches that separated our bodies. Despite being soaked to the bone, I felt breathtaking warmth emanate from his skin. Warmth that caused an unfamiliar, yet very much welcome, heat to flow through me._

_Urged onward by our love, he eased me out of my wet clothes and I helped him do the same. Our nervous fingers fumbled with buttons and ties. His eyes traveled the length of my body and I felt my face flush. I was embarrassed to let a man see me so vulnerable._

"_You're beautiful, Cari," Bevil said lovingly, "So beautiful."_

_I admired his muscular form: militia training had been kind to him. My cheeks burned as I realized I was staring at him. I had never seen a man like that before, and I was intimidated. He was a _man,_ ye gods_.

_My body grew taut with anticipation as he trailed a finger down my chest and between my bare breasts. Bevil looked down into my eyes, his unruly fringe hanging over his face. I reached up to brush my fingertips across the dusting of hair that covered his jaw. He nuzzled my hand._

"_Bevil," I whispered, "I-I've never-"_

"_Me neither," he breathed. He was trembling. He kissed me tenderly as his weight settled over me, his hips resting on mine._

_He explored every inch of me, first with his hands, then with his lips. I whimpered softly at the brief shock of pain as I gave him my innocence, as Bevil gave his in return. His passion was amazing, the feel of his body incredible. It was everything I could have hoped for, and so much more._

_He held me for hours afterwards, stroking my hair and whispering how much he loved me. I was more than pleased to give him my love as well. It was bliss to lie in the barn with him, listening to the storm overhead and the beautiful rumble of his voice in my ear, feeling the gentle touch of his hands and breathing in the enticing, musky scent of his skin._

"_I'll always be with you, my love," he murmured, "I'll always protect you. Always."_

_Everything changed-_

"Cari? Cari, wake up. Wake up!"

She screamed as a rough pair of hands grasped her shoulders, gentle shakes bringing her back into consciousness. She opened her eyes and gasped when she saw Bishop's intense eyes looking back at her, his brows knotted in concern.

"By the Hells!" he exclaimed, mildly alarmed, "What the Hells kind of dream were you having? You were thrashing around and kicking again! Hells, woman, you're not a mule!"

"It's nothing," Cari lied, "I'm a light sleeper. Sorry."

"Right," Bishop said suspiciously, "So, that scream was nothing? I highly doubt you were just dreaming about githyanki or something, you screamed Lorne's name. Quite a few times actually, it sounded like you were pleading with him."

"I'm just worried about the fight tomorrow, that's all," she mumbled, rolling onto her side.

Bishop stretched out beside her, his expression unreadable as he brushed her black hair away from her face, his touch unusually tender. His curiosity ate at him. "Why do I have a feeling this has to do with your troubles? The ones you won't tell me? If it's about your fight with Lorne tomorrow-"

"It's more complicated than that," she whispered, avoiding his piercing gaze. "This trial isn't going to be easy for me, but-"

"_Why_ won't it be?" he asked, arching an eyebrow, his eyes flashing irritably, "By the Hells, tell me, if for no other reason so we can get a good night's rest."

"Well, since Casavir knows anyway-"

"You told the _paladin_ over _me?_" he inquired, more hurt than he was willing to admit, "What, you can't trust me? When did you tell him?"

"I told him a few weeks ago, in Duskwood. And I've already said: I didn't want to burden you, Bishop. And I'm honestly not sure you would understand. It's bad."

"Try me," he said softly, easing her closer to him, "Don't judge me. Try me."

"Bishop, I'm sorry, I just can't talk to you about this."

"Why not? You told _Casavir_," he snapped, his resentment now obvious, "Am I not your lover?"

"Don't _push_ me on this!"

"I just want to know what in the Hells is the matter with you! Cari, there wasn't truth in what Lorne said, was there?" he asked, mildly worried, "What did he mean?"

"He meant nothing!" Cari cried, her eyes downcast, "It was nothing!"

Bishop grabbed her chin and jerked her head up, taking a sharp breath in through his nose. He smelled lies and deceit. His eyes narrowed as they bored into hers. "You're lying," he hissed, "You're lying to me."

"No, Bishop, no-"

"What did you do?" he snarled, his temper rising once more. Cari winced as his fingers dug painfully into her skin. "Did you break dear Lorne's heart?"

"No!" she yelled, exasperated, "You don't understand!"

"Did you _bed_ him and then _leave_ him?" Bishop growled angrily, "Did you abandon your dear lover to Luskan, Cari? Did someone better come along, is that what happened? Will you do the same to _me?_"

"_No!_ Just,_ stop!_"

"Did you-"

"Lorne_ raped_ me, Bishop!" Cari screamed. She clamped her hands over her mouth as Bishop stared at her, stunned.

_Oh. Oh, Hells! _He thought, panicked. _That was _not_ what I expected to hear! Oh, _Hells!

_Brilliant,_ his conscience drawled, _I commend you on your idiocy._

"What?" he breathed, "What did you say?"

"Lorne raped me," she said, so quietly he could barely hear her, "That's what happened."

"Wait,_ what?_" Bishop blurted out before he could stop himself. He pulled her tight against him, "How did that _happen?_"

"When I was fifteen, I was involved with a boy in West Harbor," Cari sighed painfully, "His name was Bevil Starling; he was eighteen at the time. I was young, and foolish, and I loved him. He had an older brother, Lorne-"

"Ah, yes, _Lorne_," Bishop said, disgusted, "I figured. You said 'Starling' and it clicked."

She nodded, smiling grimly as Bishop ran his fingers through her sweet-smelling hair. "I never really knew Lorne; he always ignored me when I was around Bevil. I brushed it off as being part of our age gap, but apparently he was jealous of Bevil. Very jealous. He hated Bevil for his relationship with me, even though he never once expressed any interest."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Cari snarled, bitter tears welling in her eyes, "Later that year, on the day of the Harvest Fair, Bevil and I were asleep in his bed when that _bastard_, drunk off his arse, came bursting into our room, along with two other childhood '_friends_.'"

Liquid fury burned in amber as Cari continued; her shoulders trembled as she started to sob.

"They… the two others, they dragged Bevil out of bed and started beating him. The whole room _reeked_ of alcohol. I tried to get them to stop but… but Lorne grabbed me. There was this wild, unhinged rage in his eyes. I was terrified. I tried to scream but Lorne smothered my mouth. I could still hear punches landing on Bevil's stomach.

"Bevil tried to yell for help but one of them broke his jaw, I remember hearing the bones shatter. He lost teeth that night. I thank the gods they were too drunk to hold weapons, or they'd have killed him. But Lorne… that monster, he-I tried to kick him as he fumbled with his trousers but he backhanded me across the face. Lorne grabbed me, Bishop. He grabbed my legs and he took me," she growled.

Her eyes took on a haunted cast, as though she were seeing something far away. "He beat me that night too. I fought against him. I scratched and bit, but he kept punching me. He was merciless, he ravaged me. The Mossfelds, they kept beating Bevil. At some point he fell to the ground and they started kicking him. I think they broke some of his ribs because he was coughing blood. They wouldn't let him get up, he couldn't shield himself, couldn't call for help. And Lorne... he kept going. I thought he would never stop." She felt dirty, used as she remembered the looks of pleasure on Lorne's face, pleasure he had wrung from her, taken from her with unrelenting force. He had hated her, and she had paid for it.

She cleared her throat. "When Lorne finally finished, it felt like an eternity later, he looked at his own brother, hanging battered and bleeding between the two Mossfelds, and told him that he'd 'finally gotten what he'd wanted' and he had 'no further use for me.'"

Cari's voice broke and she drew her knees up to her chest, trembling. Bishop stared at her, speechless.

_Lorne, he-he hurt her like that? _He said to himself, incredulous.

_How could I not _know_ about this? I mean, I will do some pretty horrible things, but-but… that's too much, even for me._

_If I ever get my hands on him, _he thought, livid,_ I swear I'll kill him._

"So there you go," she whispered, skin shining with tears, "Now you know too. That's why I lost it at the trial, that's why tomorrow's fight is weighing so heavily on me; it's finally my chance for revenge. I'll finally get to kill that bastard for destroying everything."

Bishop gently kissed her and softly caressed her cheek, tears staining his fingertips. He pulled her into an embrace, cradling her against his chest.

_I have to do something, _he thought as she cried into his shoulder, _I can't believe she was used like that! I can't believe she never told me something so horrible!_

_I know I've murdered people_,_ I know I've tortured people. But never would I rape a woman! Take advantage of one when she's not completely conscious of her actions? Yes, I've done that. But not rape. If a woman doesn't want me, I find another who does._

_Lorne needs to die a slow, painful death for hurting Cari like that. This was just about power. That bastard couldn't get Cari for himself, so he took her. Hells, I swear, I will kill him-_

_Heh, maybe there's something I can do after all._

_Well,_ say_ something to her! _His conscience spat. _Don't just sit there like a moron!_

"Let me fight him," Bishop growled, "Let me fight him for you. I'd enjoy killing him. That bastard deserves to die."

Cari lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot. "What?"

"Let me fight him for you tomorrow. I want to kill him."

_He shoots, and he misses_, his conscience drawled, _I would have gone with something more supportive than, "Me smash."_

"Why?" she breathed, bewildered.

"Because he hurt you in the worst way possible," he said, shaking with suppressed rage, "I will do a lot of things - but that's too much. Even _I_ have limits, you know, and he pushed it. _Nobody_ touches_ my_ woman like that and lives."

"Wait a minute," she said nasally, her nose stuffy, "You want to take on Lorne for me? This is my chance for revenge, Bishop, thank you, but I don't need you to do so. I just-I just want your support or something, that's all."

"My support?" Bishop asked, confused, "What do you mean? I offered to kill Lorne for you; I don't know what else I could have done-"

"You could have listened to me when I said that this was _my_ chance for revenge," Cari said, irritated, "I don't want _you_ to solve this with violence. I've just told you something horrible, and I-I just want you, that's all."

"What do you want me to do, lover?" he spat, "I don't know what you want from me! I'm trying to fix it for you!"

"I don't need you to 'fix' it, I just want you to be here, just… I don't know. I expected you to be less emotionally distant."

"Cari, I don't know what you want from me," he said furiously, pulling away, "How am I being emotionally distant? I-I want to support you! I-"

"Bishop, offering to kill someone isn't support!" she cried, sitting up, "Why can't you just try and comfort me or something?"

"I don't know _how!_" Bishop bellowed, standing up, "I don't know how to give you what you want, Cari! It's all up here somewhere, but I'm obviously too dense to get it out the way _you_ want it to be!"

"You're not dense!" Cari yelled, clutching the blanket to her chest as she rose from her bedroll, "I just wanted _you_, Bishop! I just wanted you to be here for me!"

"Well, I obviously can't," he growled, slipping back into his trousers and yanking his tunic over his head, "So you can spend the night alone. I'm obviously not good enough to meet your standards-"

"So you're running away?" Cari said venomously, distraught at how much emotion was flooding from her, "You're running away after forcing that out of me? If you weren't such a jealous jackass, maybe this wouldn't have happened!"

"You think this is _my_ fault?" he roared, advancing on her. She backed up, alarmed; Bishop pinned her to the wall with his body, his face inches from hers, "How_ dare_ you blame this on _me!_"

"If you had just listened to me when I said it wasn't your business, this wouldn't have happened!" Cari shouted, tears shining in her eyes, "Why don't you trust me? You essentially told me I was a whore! I've been your lover for three months now! Can't you give me more than just your body? Can't you_ trust_ me?"

Bishop reached out to cradle her chin, but he hesitated. His hands hovered beside her cheeks, and Cari could see the battle behind his eyes. "I-I can't handle this," he said dismissively, throwing his hands in the air, "I can't handle _this_, and I can't handle _you_. I'm going to the Flagon."

"Fine!" Cari screamed as Bishop stormed towards the door, "Get the Hells out then, lover! I never want to see you again!"

"I'll happily oblige, _lover_," he yelled over his shoulder as he slammed the heavy wooden door behind him. Cari flung herself back down onto her bedroll, buried her face in her pillow, and stared to cry.

_Oh, Hells, _she thought as her tears soaked her cheeks, _I've really blown it this time, haven't I?_

Sometime later, Cari heard the heavy door scrape along the floor as it opened once more. She sat up and sniffled as Casavir approached her, a kind smile on his face. He dropped down beside her and pulled her into an embrace.

He gently stroked her hair as she cried into his shoulder. "Cari, please, tell me everything."


	17. Visits and Revenge

(**Author's note: **All right, after the emotion of that last chapter, let's watch Cari as she finally puts some demons to rest! And once again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed this, it means the world to me when you do, so, thank you, Sticksie, Cro-Magnon, femensqueterror and Darth Ixnay! Along with Ride4Ruin and Churr Osric, thanks for the input! Enjoy!)

Bishop sat on his bed in the Flagon, fuming, running his fingers through his chestnut hair.

_I can't believe she acted like that. How dare she? What did she_ want_ from me?_

He felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt as her eyes, red-rimmed and blazing with tears, haunted his mind. He quickly brushed it off.

_And now she's there with the _paladin, he thought to himself, his imagination feeding off his jealousy. _'Just talking,' I'm sure. I doubt they're 'just talking.' I'll bet they're using their mouths in different ways._

_Oh,_ gods, his conscience said coldly, _they're in a temple devoted to _Tyr._ The likelihood of Casavir doing anything sacrilegious is about as likely as cows spewing from a fiery crack in the earth. If you're so godsdamned worried, go talk to her yourself._

_Why do I even care? I can't _believe_ I'm getting this worked up over a woman! Gods, I'm a bloody fool. She told me she never wanted to see me again, and I'm _not _about to go crawling back to her like some beaten puppy._

He jumped as something cold touched his skin; he looked down to see Karnwyr nuzzling his hand, the wolf's big, yellow eyes reproachful.

_What?_ He sent to the wolf, _I'm_ not_ going to go talk to her._

Karnwyr sat back on his haunches, his furry eyebrows raised. _Bish say he not go back to mate, but Karnwyr know better. Bish know that Cari face big, ugly man today. Bish know that Cari might not be his mate anymore, she might die-_

_Don't say that, she can handle Lorne-_

_Karnwyr think Bish should go see mate, unless he want to lose her for good. Bish not _total_ idiot, Bish know he like Cari. Bish needs to do something soon or Bish be lonely again. Karnwyr no want Bish to be lonely, Karnwyr like it when Bish happy. Cari make Bish happy, right?_

Bishop thought for a moment. _Yes, I mean, maybe. Well, sort of._

_Then Bish need to go see mate. Cari is _Bish's_ mate. Bish needs to go back and fight to keep her._

_You know, Karnwyr, you're right, _he thought, standing up and grabbing his bow and skinning knife, _Cari's_ my_ mate, and I'll be damned if someone takes her from me without a fight._

Karnwyr watched as Bishop swept out the door, a determined look on his face. The wolf chuckled to himself.

_Sometimes Karnwyr wonder how Bish manage to dress in the morning._

* * *

Meanwhile, Cari paced back and forth in the temple, her heart racing as she watched the sunrise, golden light streaming through stained-glass windows. 

_I can do this, I can do this, Lorne's nothing. I'll slaughter him like the pig he is, I'll-_

She froze as an icy hand clamped around her arm.

"I see you still wear that nightgown," a deep voice purred, "I always loved the way it looked on you. Though I also loved it lying on my floor, too-"

"Don't you ever use a door, Martin?" Cari snapped, jerking her arm free.

"Where's the fun in that?" he grinned, arching an eyebrow. "I'm here to help you."

Cari looked at him warily. "Why?"

"It's simple, really. Cyric would throw me out of favor if I let one of his chosen go into a battle for her life without offering my aid," he drawled, looking around and leaning back against the altar. "You know, for a temple devoted to Tyr, it's really not that bad in here. Nice architecture, though I much prefer the black marble floors of my temple. And Cora asked me to deliver a message."

"And what message is that?"

"That you're a cold, heartless wench and that you should be eliminated as soon as possible," he said airily. "I then reminded her of who was responsible for that nobleman finding our shrine in the first place."

"Oh, I'm a wench, am I?"

"A cold, heartless one, love," Martin chided.

"If the bracers fit," she said as the cleric folded his arms over his chest, "Though why are you here? I doubt it's out of the kindness of your heart."

He rolled his eyes. "I've already told you, I'm here to offer aid," he said smoothly, tousling his loose, black hair.

"Great, good to know," Cari said, sarcasm dripping off every word. "So, what can you do to aid me?"

He gave her a lecherous smile. "I can give you a good time before you die," he said suggestively, raising his eyebrows and dragging a finger along the waist of his trousers.

She snorted in disgust. "Please, Bishop was here. Try again."

"And she twists the knife," Martin sighed, scowling. "Well, I suppose I could give you something else instead."

"Like what?"

Martin smiled cruelly as he pulled a small dagger from the satchel on his hip. The blade was tinged black. "Here," he muttered, "Save this for the end, when you have Lorne on his knees. It's coated with a special poison, so use it well."

"Thank you," she said, placing the dagger on the table, "Anything else?"

"Yes," he whispered, his eyes alight with malice as he stepped towards her, "Keep in mind what he did to you. Keep in mind that he will not show you mercy. Show no mercy in return. Remember to embrace your hatred, and through your hatred, embrace Cyric, for he is with you, Cari."

Cari gritted her teeth as he grabbed her arms, his grip icy cold. "Martin, this won't work anymore-"

"Hate him, Cari," he growled, pressing his chest against her back and breathing in the sweet perfume of her hair, "Hate Lorne and spill his blood. Let your fury and rage control you."

"Stop," she spat, fighting against his grasp, "Stop it, you can't do this anymore-"

"Destroy him," Martin hissed, his lips behind her ear, "Destroy him for corrupting you into the woman I see before me: beautiful, deadly, and_ merciless_."

"No!" she cried, finally managing to pull away. "I won't let you work me up like you used to Martin, you don't have that power over me anymore! I fight him for _me!_ I fight him for _my_ revenge!"

Martin looked her over, his black eyes hard and cold. "You've changed, rose," he sneered, "You've changed. I'm not sure Cyric will appreciate this."

"Is there anything else you need, Martin?" she said irritably, "Or will you disappear into the shadows and leave me the hell alone?"

"Well, since Bishop was already here-"

"_Is_ here," a gruff voice growled from the door.

Cari spun around to see Bishop standing in the doorway, his wolfish eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What're you doing here, Martin?" he said coldly, walking to the altar.

"Just doing what I can for my best assassin," he replied curtly. "Here, drink this before the battle," he said, handing her a blue bottle, "It will aid you as well. Since you're here, Bishop, I shall take my leave. Best of luck to you, Carianna, know that Cyric is on your side."

"I hate it when he does that," Bishop grumbled as Martin disappeared into the shadows, "So, what did he do for you?"

"He gave me some useful trinkets," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze, "That's all."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his jealousy flaring.

"Yes, I'm sure," she spat, "I didn't bed him. And before you ask, I didn't bed Casavir either. I slept _alone_ last night. Unless _Tyr_ came and bedded me in my sleep that is."

"I came here to see you off," Bishop growled, "But I'm thinking it was a mistake."

"You make a lot of mistakes, Bishop," Cari said coolly, "We both-"

"Oh,_ I_ make mistakes, do I?" he said maliciously, "Should I list _your_ mistakes, rose?"

"That's not what I meant, and don't interrupt me!"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"You know, if you're just going to yell at me, you can get the hell out," Cari snarled, "Because I have more important things to do than to listen to your insecurities. Which, may I add, are completely unfounded."

"They're_ unfounded?_" Bishop asked, bewildered, "_I'm_ not the one who was alone with the paladin and the cleric."

"Oh, gods, Bishop, nothing happened," she spat angrily, "I'm not a whore! The only man I've been with for the last three months is_ you!_"

The ranger clenched his jaw, unable to conjure a reply. "I came here to wish you good luck for the fight ahead. And to give you this," he said, throwing his sheathed skinning knife at her, "Use it if you want. Or don't, I don't care. Just don't die, it takes time to break in a new bed-partner, you know."

He turned on his heel and left, the sound of Cari's infuriated screams echoing in his ears.

_All right, that last bit was a bit much. I'll admit. I think that was a bit hurtful._

_A bit? _His conscience said dryly, _Wow, that's quite the understatement. It's like looking at a prize buck and calling it a goose._

_Fine, fine, I get it, _he thought_. I'll apologize when she's done fighting._

_If she lives that long. _

Another wave of guilt and sorrow washed over him.

_She'd better win._

* * *

_I can't _believe_ that jackass_! Cari thought furiously as she strode to the arena. _Does he not trust me?_

'_Break in a new bed-partner,' right. 'Get used to his snoring' is more like it._

_Bishop and I are having a _long_ talk when I'm done here. And if that won't work, he'll become well acquainted with my fists._

Cari set her jaw, anger turning her blood to fire. She tucked Bishop's skinning knife into her boot and downed the potion Martin had given her; she was pleased as the air around her turned black.

With her rage at Bishop and Lorne consuming her, she walked forward, the roar of the crowd deafening. She caught Bishop's eye and was startled by the look of apprehension and terror on his face.

_What's with that look? Is he actually worried for me? _She watched as he alternated between nervously twisting the ties of his tunic between his fingers and biting the nails on his right hand.

_He's nervous. He's really nervous for me. He _does_ care. Otherwise, he'd be getting drunk right now._

Surprised by Bishop's worry, Cari felt a twinge of nervous excitement as her eyes fell on Lorne, his massive frame towering over her. She held her head high as she listened to Nasher's words, aware of the way Lorne was watching her, his gaze predatory.

"Is the accused or her champion here?" Nasher said nervously, eyeing her apprehensively.

"I am here to defend myself, and for the people of Ember," Cari said, determined, ignoring Lorne's lecherous growls.

"You know, when you're on your knees begging for your life," he leered, "I'll be sure to take you one final time, just for old time's sake."

"You're the one who'll be begging, Lorne," she spat, "When my steel is stuck in your neck."

"Acting on behalf of Torio is her champion, Lorne. Is he present?"

"We are here," Lorne growled, unsheathing his falchion.

"You know, I always wanted to tell you," Cari sneered, "you're overcompensating with that sword there." She laughed as he turned a brilliant shade of crimson.

"Just for that, I'm going to carve my name into your hide while you still breathe," he snarled, "And then I'm going after your handsome little ranger friend too."

"The only thing you're going to do is drown in your own blood," Cari hissed, turning on her heel and walking to her side of the arena.

Nasher's voice boomed out once more. "We call upon Tyr to help us to settle this matter. Tyr's judgment shall come forth – through blade and strength, through balance and resolve. Combatants, you may begin."

Cari was poised and ready as Lorne rushed her, swinging wildly with his deadly falchion. She tumbled, crossing her swords over each other and slicing the blades into his thigh. Lorne howled in pain as Cari straightened up, the black cloud around her crackling with energy.

"Oh, come now," she taunted, "You had no problems with me when I was defenseless, why are you having such trouble now?"

"You little wench," he growled, lunging again. Cari easily sidestepped him, digging her blades into his back. "Stand still, damn you!"

"What, stay still like I did that night?" Cari snarled, plunging a katana deep into his shoulder.

Lorne roared in anger, the cloud of dark energy draining him as he passed through it. The battle was bloody: every swing of Lorne's falchion was matched by Cari's steel, every lunge dodged, every attempt a miss until it drove Lorne into madness. Cari recognized the crazed look from that night so many winters ago.

"I'll cleave your head from your shoulders!" he bellowed, rushing her.

"Cari, move!" Bishop shouted, "Now!"

She looked up at Bishop's words and didn't have time to duck as Lorne's shoulder caught her in the chest, knocking her backwards. The wind left her lungs as she flew into the wall of the arena. Bishop winced at the sickening 'crack' of her skull smacking against stone.

_Great, _Cari thought, dazed, _Thanks for distracting me, lover._

Bishop watched closely as Cari slumped to the ground, shaking her head as Lorne reared back, kicking her with all his strength. Horror chilled the blood in his veins as Lorne reached down and closed a hand around her throat…

Cari winced in pain as her head throbbed; something sticky dripped down her forehead but she ignored it, all she could do was claw at the hand that was cutting off her air…

A cruel smile crossed Lorne's face as Cari hung limply from his grasp, her eyes unfocused. He dropped her to the ground and put a knee firmly on her chest, pinning her down. She shook her head, gasping for breath as Lorne eyed her hungrily.

"Hmm, I wonder if I _will_ have the opportunity to taste you one last time," he sneered, smiling cruelly, "It's such a shame to let such an attractive body go to waste, you know. And right in front of your dear, mongrel ranger too.

"My brother always was a lucky man," he growled, not noticing as Cari groped along the top of her boot, "You were the first woman he ever tasted. You should have been _mine_, rose, you _always_ should have been mine."

A malicious smile curled Cari's lips as her fingers curled around Bishop's skinning knife. "I would _never_ have been yours," she whispered, slowly pulling the knife from the sheath, "I loved your brother too much." Lorne screamed in pain as she plunged the skinning knife into his chest; she took advantage of his distraction to scramble to her feet, stumbling as a wave of dizziness hit her.

She grabbed her swords and drove them deep into Lorne's stomach, drenching her hands in his blood. He howled in agony before turning defiant eyes on her, watching her closely as she pulled her black dagger from her belt.

"You-you think you've won?" he choked, blood trickling out of his mouth, "You've won _nothing_. Garius still seeks your death, wench."

"I care not about your _Garius_, Lorne," Cari said cruelly, stepping around him as he gagged on blood, "the only thing I care about is _your_ death."

She placed the black dagger over his throat, ignoring the way her body ached, still fighting off unconsciousness as blood trickled down her face from the wound in her forehead. She leaned in, jerking his head to face her, emerald blazing into pale blue.

"This is for Bevil," she hissed, piercing his skin with the blade. "_This_ is for what we had." She raked it slowly across his throat. "And_ this_ is for _me_, Lorne, for destroying me. I will enjoy this, very much," she purred, slicing the blade cleanly through his throat.

Cari watched as the rage in his eyes slowly faded, leaving only loneliness and pain behind. Lorne started jerking and convulsing as the poison consumed his body, arterial spray soaking the soil. He managed to grab her armor and pull her forward.

"You should have been _mine_," he mouthed, his severed vocal cords preventing him from speaking. His gaze became loving, tender, and Cari felt a wave of regret as Lorne suddenly bore a great resemblance to his younger brother.

He closed his eyes and fell back, his massive frame causing the ground to shake slightly beneath her feet. Cari collapsed, her vision hazy. She heard a second pair of feet land beside her before a strong pair of hands grabbed her and lifted her into the air. The familiar scent of leather and pine filled her senses.

"Hi, Bishop," Cari said weakly as his arms closed around her, clutching her to his chest. She tasted salt as her blood trickled into her mouth.

"Don't talk," he murmured, "Your skull is cracked."

"You don't say," she chuckled, "Is it now?"

"Didn't I say not to talk?"

Cari felt Bishop nuzzle her neck as she relaxed into his embrace. She heard him shout for help, and she felt soft lips on hers before she disappeared into a world of darkness.


	18. Awakenings and Bitter Surprises

(Author's note: I'd like to start this out by thanking everyone for their reviews, they mean so much to me, they keep me writing! All right, for this chapter, a very disoriented Cari makes some mistakes, and finds out something huge. Do enjoy! I hope it's okay, I'm not totally comfortable with it. I'd give it an M for sexual content. I'd like to thank Cor for helping me out with some stuff here! Edit: After much waffling on my part, I edited some stuff out that I was very uncomfortable with. At the risk of passing the buck, I had originally put some stuff in under pressure from an outside source, despite my better judgment. And I now know that I should have listened to my gut. I hope I have not offended anyone, but I thought the stuff I removed was too much for the scene. Cari's actions were a but too blatant for someone who is as hurt as she has been, and Casavir would not have reacted that way, so I 'fixed' it. I hope it's better now:) )

Sometime, an eternity later, Cari awoke. Everything was black.

_Oh, gods, where am I? Am I dead? _

She could hear someone moving nearby, and she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

_Can dead people feel warmth?_

_You could try opening your eyes and end the suspense, you know._

_Oh._

Cari groaned and wrenched her eyes open; she blinked a few times as everything slowly shifted into focus. She realized she was lying in her bed in the Flagon, her armor draped over a nearby chair. Frantic, she looked down, and was relieved to see that she was wearing her nightgown.

"Wait," she muttered, "How did I end up in this? I was in my armor, last thing I remember-"

"You were," a deep voice rumbled. She sat up to see Casavir sitting on the bed beside her, a broad smile on his face and dark circles under his eyes. "You took one amazing blow to the head. I-I hope you don't mind, I had to ask Bishop to get you out of your armor. He cleaned it for you; there was much blood on it."

"That's fine," she mumbled, a flush rising in her cheeks as she thought about her tattoos, "Did you see-?"

"Your wounds? Yes, I saw those, nothing more."

"Oh," she replied, slightly unsettled, "all right then. How long have I been out?"

"A week," Casavir said, "Bishop has rarely left your side; he's slept in here with you. He's worried about you, Cari."

"Yeah, only because he can't afford to break in a new bed-partner. I threw him out, and he hasn't told me he wants to come back, so it doesn't matter. I don't need him," she said bitterly. "I still feel woozy."

"That's expected. You said some very… _interesting_ things while you were out," Casavir said awkwardly.

"Like what?"

"Well… you said that I was 'exceptionally handsome' and that you'd like me to, well, uh, strip you and make love to you, for one."

Cari frowned. "I said that?"

"Err, yes. And in front of Grobnar, no less. I had to convince him not to make a song about it. I simply assumed that it was due to your injury…"

"What if it wasn't?" Cari teased.

Casavir stared at her, his ice-blue eyes wide. "You… wait, _what?_"

She winked. "Cas, you're too easily flustered at times. Forgive me for exploiting it. Am I able to move?"

"You really shouldn't do anything too strenuous, like combat," he said kindly, laughter sparkling in his eyes, "But you should be fine."

"My head still aches," she moaned.

He leaned forward and gently brushed her hair away from her face, examining the thin scratch that was once a gaping wound. Cari caught the scent of incense and smoke on his skin.

"You smell good," she said, giggling, "Did you pray recently?"

Casavir smiled. "About an hour ago, actually, I prayed that you would wake up. And you did."

"Thank you, Cas," she whispered, "At least you care about me."

"Of course I care," he murmured, "Very much." He shifted closer and cupped a hand around the back of her neck. "Try tilting your head back, and tell me what happens."

With his hand supporting her, Cari slowly inched her head back. She felt a searing pain at the base of her skull and she cried out, tears welling in her eyes as she buried her face in Casavir's shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he said quickly, gently stroking her hair.

"That hurt," she grumbled, her voice slightly muffled. Casavir couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Apparently. Are you all right?"

Cari pulled away, her heart racing pleasantly as she looked into Casavir's kind eyes. "I'm all right," she said quietly, "I appreciate your concern and your company."

"I'm happy to do what I can, Cari. You're going to need some more healing tonight, but I'm drained at the moment. For some reason, my spells weren't at full capacity. They felt weak when I cast them on you."

"That's fine." She nuzzled his neck, breathing in the musky aroma of his skin; she smiled slightly as he continued to stroke her hair. "Thank you, Casavir. I am grateful to have you with me."

Her gaze fell to his lips and her arms wound around his shoulders, her fingers lightly stroking the dark waves at the nape of his neck. His mouth curled into a warm smile. "I am happy to be here."

A soft whimper grew in her throat as his free arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. For the first time in ages she felt…_wanted_.

_I want to know how it feels, _Cari thought, her mind wild with confusion and longing, _I want to know how it feels to have a man care for me. I mean, he cares for me, right? He said so himself. Men who say they care for me usually bed me to prove it...  
_

Her hand slid from his neck to caress his cheek. She reached up and lightly kissed him, testing him. He froze, but did not shy away. Her lips trembled as they drew nearer to his for a second time…

And then she was kissing him, deeply, passionately, her hands running up and down his back. How long had it been since he had touched a woman? Kissed a woman as she was kissing him now?

"Please, Casavir," she murmured, her voice thick and inviting, "Take me. Please," she breathed, nearly pleading, "Show me what it means to have a man care for me." 

_I-I can't.__ I can't dishonor _her_ that way, _Casavir said to himself, his mind winning over his body,_ I can't dishonor _myself _that way, __I can't, and I won't.__ I won't hurt her_.

She waited in silence, the rapid beat of his pulse pounding against her chest. Her heart sank as he gently set her down and moved away, his eyes downcast. "No, this is _not_ the way for a man to prove it. I'm sorry, but I won't."

"Why not?" she asked, breathless and embarrassed.

Casavir sat back, frowning. "Because, Cari, you are confused. You are not yourself right now, I'm sure of it. Besides, even if you were, you and I both know that I would only be serving as someone to keep you distracted until Bishop comes around. I know he has hurt you, and you are upset, but sleeping with me will not make it better, it will only make it worse. You know you don't truly desire me," He paused, anger at the ranger burning inside him, "And I won't do that. Everyone deserves more than that in love, especially you."

Tears welled in her eyes and she turned away, swatting at the hand Casavir extended to comfort her. "Then what should I expect from a man who loves me, o wise and noble paladin?" she asked, sarcasm dripping off her words, "If not that? What should I expect from Bishop?"

"Well," he said kindly, ignoring her blatant mockery and pulling her up to face him, "Not accusing you of being a lightskirt would be a good start. And stop giggling," he growled. Cari's mouth snapped shut. "This may amuse you, but I think the way he treats you is not one for laughter."

Her eyes narrowed. "Cas, I just asked you for a tumble. 'Lightskirt' is probably an accurate description. Besides, do you think I want a man who worships me? Who kneels at my feet? I have no use for men like that. If I wanted a man like that, I'd be bedding Nevalle. That is, if he isn't bonking Nasher already-"

"There's treating a woman like a goddess," he said firmly, "And then there's treating a woman like she's a hound to be lashed and beaten for merely existing. Neither is love. It enrages Bishop when you speak to me. The mere mention of another man's name is cause for him to suspect you've bedded him.

"Cari, he desires you – that is _clear_ – and while he did spend every night in here beside you, keeping watch over you, he has given you _nothing_ of himself, yet has expected everything from you. That is not love. Do you _want_ him to love you?"

"I-" she started, unsure. Did she want his love? Did she even know what a man's love felt like? In all their time together, had Martin loved her?

Had Bevil loved her?

"I-I don't know," she admitted, "I don't know what I want. I am content with what I have now, but I would like him to trust me."

"Then request it," Casavir said quietly, taking her delicate hands in his, "Require it. Ask him to give something of himself to you. If he refuses, you'll be fine. You are desirable, Cari, do not ever think otherwise. There are plenty of men who would fight for you should Bishop prove to fail you. If he gives it… well, it's a step in the right direction. Maybe even one where he could love you. Just, give him the chance to at least try, he deserves that much."

"All right, I'll give him another chance. I really don't want to lose him. But by the hells, why can't he be like you?" Cari smiled, "Why can't he be as understanding and warm and kind…"

_Why can't I like Cas? _Cari thought, _He'd treat me well, he'd love me._

_Why can't I _see _him that way? Hells, why don't I like the good men?_

"You flatter me," he said, blushing, "But if he were like me, he wouldn't be Bishop, would he? He'd be me."

"True," she chuckled. "Cas?"

"Mmmm?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

He paused for a moment, thinking. "Yes, Cari, I was. I was young, and I now know how rather _foolish_ I was, but yes, I was."

"What was it like?"

Cari started to feel vaguely nauseous as Casavir drifted into his thoughts, remembering better times for him, times of love.

"…it's a truly wonderful feeling, it really is. To know that they'll be there for you, through everything, good times and bad-"

"Cas?" Cari interrupted, choking slightly, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Okay, maybe I did get a bit overly-sweet on you there-"

"No, I really am going to be sick!"

"Oh, damn!" Casavir jumped up, grabbed her by the elbow and eased her over to the open window. Cari sighed with relief as the fresh air calmed her stomach.

"Are you all right?" Casavir asked, concerned, "I remember you being ill after Port Llast as well."

"I'm fine. Probably just the aftereffects of the hit to my head, I guess. I mean, it's not like I'm with child or anything," she finished, laughing.

Casavir suddenly frowned. "Well, just to make sure you _aren't_ with child, have you been taking Sand's potions?"

"Of course I have," Cari said dismissively, "I drink one potion on the first of the month, and I'm clear until the end. Simple."

His frown deepened. "Cari, if I'm remembering correctly, you're supposed to take it on the full moon, not the first of the month. Have you, you know, had your, your, woman-thing?"

"My woman-thing?"

He gestured rather wildly with his hands. "You know, your-" and he pointed below his belt, "Womanly issues."

The giggle in Cari's throat died quickly. "Cas," she whispered, her heart racing, "To be honest? I don't remember. I don't think I did. But I was so stressed, I don't-"

She gasped as Casavir suddenly picked her up and placed her back on the bed. "Did you change your mind about the tumble, Cas? I don't understand-"

"That's not what I'm doing," he said seriously, gently prodding her stomach, "Cari, I think you _are_ with child. I didn't even _think_ to check your belly at any point, I wish I had… it explains what was drawing the power from my spells-"

"But Sand said the potions would keep me safe!" she said, panicking, "He said that they would _work!_"

"Cari, that's only if they're taken correctly. And even then, they're not always effective. Sometimes Lathander has his say-"

"You only suspect I'm with child, right? I mean, there's a chance I'm not, _right?_"

"We need to be sure. I'm getting Sand!" Casavir said, bursting out the door. He returned moments later with Sand by the arm; Cari couldn't choke back a laugh as she noticed that the poor elf was completely naked, save for the towel around his waist. Sand's damp hair dripped onto the floor as his face darkened with fury.

"This had better be important," Sand snarled, shivering as the breeze from the open window blew over his wet skin, "I was in the bath-"

"Cari might be with child," Casavir blurted out, "And we need you to confirm or deny it."

"Hopefully deny," Cari muttered.

"I am unsure of what you wish me to do, my tin-plated friend," Sand drawled, "You are a healer, can't _you _figure it out? Wait," he paused, sniffing the air, "Now that you mention it - and now that her scent isn't masked by blood and anguish and _sex_– you're right. She smells _very_ different. That usual scent of hers… it's gone. It's changed. It's weaker, and there's something else there… faint, but there. It smells like… leather… and _smoke_…" he trailed off, his expression suddenly serious, "Cari, you're with child. I'm sure of it."

"Can you tell how far along she is?" Casavir inquired, "Or do we need a midwife?"

"We could use logic," Sand smirked, "How long has it been since your last cycle?"

"Oh, hells, I don't know," Cari said miserably, tears welling in her eyes, "Not since Bishop bedded me that first time, I guess. So… three months? It coincided with that oh-so-lovely visit with Nevalle, so I had assumed it was just stress-"

"There you are," Sand said tiredly, "Three months. I would congratulate you, Carianna, but I doubt it is what you need right now-"

"You're right," she whispered, "Please, Sand, thank you for your help, but go back to your bath." He gave her a sad smile as he turned and left, shutting the door behind him. Casavir walked over and stretched out on the bed beside her. He pulled her into an embrace, letting her head rest on his shoulder, her tears soaking his tunic.

"Are you going to be all right, Cari?" he said quietly, holding her tightly against him, "What can I do to help you?"

"I don't know," she sobbed, "I can't think right now. Between this and me asking you for a tumble, Bishop won't have a damn thing to do with me."

"Don't be angry at yourself," he said warmly, "You're hurt. You're upset. It's only natural to look for comfort with those who care for you. I offer you my sincerest apologies for letting it get as far as it did. I know I hurt you. But that isn't comfort I can give you. Bishop can, if you wish him to, but I can't. Don't beat yourself up over it, anyone would look for solace as you did. As for the baby... I'm here for you, you know that, right?"

"I know," she sniffled, "Thank you."

"I just don't know how I'm going to tell Bishop."


	19. Memories and Trust

(Author's note: Forgive the length of this chapter, everyone, it's a bit longer, and it's definitely rated for Mature Adults for a couple scenes of explicit sexuality and nudity. So, if you're under 18, or easily offended by sexuality, please, stop about halfway down and skip to the end, okay? All right, now that the stuffy part is over with, this chapter's full of fun stuff, including another dream flashback and choices leading to eventual angst! I hope you all enjoy it! Once again, I thank you all for your reviews, they mean the world to me! Thank you!)

Cari had cried herself to sleep as Casavir attempted to comfort her.

"Yes, Bishop's the father," she had repeated endlessly, "I have not bedded anyone but him these last few months."

After what felt like days she had passed into a troubled slumber. Before he left, Casavir found Sand and borrowed a _Deep Slumber_ scroll, letting Cari finally rest peacefully.

_It was six months to the day since I had fled West Harbor, eight months since Lorne. I had lived in the Mere, surviving on what little I had learned from my father. It had been barely enough, and I was starving._

_I had traveled further and further away from West Harbor, trying to escape the gossip, the slander, the pain. The rumors had haunted me. Rumors that I had tempted Lorne into attacking me. Rumors that I had secretly wanted it. Rumors that I had secretly loved it._

_I had not wanted it, I had not loved it! Lorne had taken from me what I would never give him willingly. He had beaten me, used my body, and discarded me._

_What person would love that?_

_The rumors about Bevil had pained me the worst. After Lorne, we had tried to be as normal as possible, but he had lost his confidence. The rumors had hurt him too. The Mossfelds had taunted him, telling him how weak he was for not defending his lover. _

_In response, Bevil had thrown himself into militia training, and I was left alone._

_I do not know how I found myself in Luskan. I suppose I followed the road north without realizing it. I remember following the welcoming scent of warm food, and it led me to the door of a tavern called The Cutlass. I spent my last few coppers on a large meal._

_I asked for more, but the grizzled barman refused me. He told me to come back with more money. My stomach still ached with hunger, but I left, hoping I could pickpocket enough money for another meal. I did not see the men follow me out._

_I stood outside the door, with what I hoped was an innocent look on my face, as patrons walked past me. I gasped as someone grabbed a chunk of my hair and jerked my head back._

"_Well now, aren't you a pretty little thing?" a man's voice growled. His breath reeked of alcohol. It churned my stomach. "Are you in need of some coppers, playpretty?"_

_I noticed how his two comrades flanked me. The man who held my hair dragged me back behind the tavern, into a dim alley, his two friends following close behind._

"_How badly do you need them coppers, young catclaw?" he taunted, his eyes alight with malice. "What would you be willing to do for it?"_

_I said nothing, but I knew the look on my face would give away my fear._

_The man thrust his hips against my back. "I'd be willing to give you some silver, catclaw, if you are willing to earn it."_

_I said nothing. The man roared in anger and spun me around to face him; I caught a fleeting glimpse of his gray eyes before he forced me onto my knees in front of him._

"_Earn this, slapthighs," he snarled, "Hold her."_

_His two friends stepped forward and grabbed my shoulders as the man unlaced his trousers. The man grabbed my hair once more and forced himself into my mouth, pushing so far back that I choked. His friends held me down and tears streamed down my cheeks as the man thrust ruthlessly into my mouth, rubbing my throat raw. Was this how all men were? Was I so worthless in the eyes of men that they thought I could be used for pleasure at their whim?_

_The gray-eyed man began to shake. He finished and backhanded me across the face. "Bitch," he spat, "Suck harder next time. Don't make me do all the work." He turned to his friends. "I don't think she's earned her money yet, boys, do you?'_

_The other two men started laughing suggestively._

"_Then make her earn it," the gray-eyed man said cruelly._

_My scream was stifled as one of the other men kissed me and forced me onto my back. I scratched and I fought as the other man drew a knife and started cutting my leathers. It felt like Lorne all over again._

_Suddenly, the alley was bathed in a bright light. The men screamed, and I heard the clash of steel meeting steel. A foot collided with the side of my head and I fell into darkness._

_Sometime later, I awoke to the feel of a soft mattress beneath my back. I opened my eyes and watched as the tall, muscular form of a man turned around, his long hair loose around his shoulders. I groped for anything to use as a weapon as he stepped into the candlelight, a smile on his face. His hair was black as pitch._

"_You're awake, Carianna," he said warmly. His voice was deep and smooth, but it had a harsh coolness to it, "You'll find no weapons here, so you can stop looking."_

_I narrowed my eyes._

"_How do you know my name?" I asked aggressively, "Who are you? Where am I? What am I doing here? How did I get here?"_

_The black-haired man held up a long-fingered hand. "I somehow knew you would be suspicious upon awakening. Please, may I sit?" he asked pleasantly, gesturing to the space beside me._

_Slowly, cautiously, I nodded._

_He was handsome, with high, chiseled cheekbones and a strong jaw. His eyes were intense. I couldn't stop myself from staring as I realized they were as black as his hair, black as night. He chuckled._

"_Do not feel frightened. You are safe here, Carianna."_

"_You still haven't answered my questions."_

"_My, you are the assertive one, aren't you?" he laughed, "Well, Carianna, I know your name because Cyric sent me to find you."_

"_Cyric? As in, the Black Sun Cyric?"_

"_Yes, the very same," the man grinned, "It seems you know your lore. I am a servant, a cleric, of the Black Sun. My name is Martin." _

_He sat down beside me, his eyes curious and wondering. "As for where you are, you are currently in my bed, in my room, in my temple. You are here because I rescued you."_

_I looked down at the luxurious silk sheets wrapped around me. "That was you in the alley?"_

"_Yes, and it appears that I failed you. I was delayed. Please, forgive me for not arriving sooner." _

_I bit my lip and raised my eyes to his face. "What of those men?"_

"_They will not bother you again, Carianna. They will not bother you, or anyone else, ever again. Let's just say that Cyric received his blood today."_

"_Good," I said savagely, "They deserved it-"_

"_Calm yourself," he said, gently easing me onto my back once more. "You need to rest. Your body is weak. Please, sleep. You will be safe here. I will send in the temple matron, Sitae, to check on you."_

_I nodded. Martin gently brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers and I flinched, jerking my head away._

"_Please, Carianna, you can trust me."_

_I sneered._

"_You're a man, Martin. Men can't be trusted."_

_He bowed his head sadly. "I hope you will give me a chance before you judge me. I will send Sitae in shortly-"_

Cari stirred as something tugged at her hair. Irritated at being ripped from her slumber, she opened an eye to find Bishop looking down at her, smiling and running his fingers through her dark waves.

"Hi," he said awkwardly, stopping suddenly, "You're awake."

"You have a keen sense of the obvious," she smirked, yawning, "What time is it?"

"Just past midnight. Whatever spell Casavir put you under knocked you out completely."

With her pregnancy weighing heavily on her mind, sleep had not come easily. She smiled painfully at the deep circles under Bishop's eyes and the thick beard covering his cheeks and throat.

"By the hells, have you slept? Have you _shaved?_ I've never seen you with a full beard before-"

Bishop narrowed his eyes. "If my appearance offends you-"

"Not at all," she smiled, brushing the backs of her fingers across the coarse hair on his jaw, "I rather like it."

"Oh," he muttered, taken aback, "All right then. Since you're awake, and you told me you 'never wanted to see me again,' I will leave."

Cari remembered Casavir's words, about how Bishop had stayed with her during the night, watching over her. Casavir's words, telling her to give Bishop another chance.

"No, wait," she said quickly, grabbing Bishop's wrist as he tried to stand, "Please, stay."

He stared at her, his heart pounding in his ears. "Do you really want me to?"

"Yes, please."

He smiled slightly and he stretched out beside her. She sighed before speaking again.

"We need to talk."

"About what?"

Her mind wandered to thoughts of the baby. She had pushed the incident with Casavir out of her mind, attributing her actions to vulnerability and confusion, rather than actual desire.

_It was like kissing a brother, _she had thought, _it wasn't like kissing Bishop. There was nothing between us. Bishop doesn't have to know. Casavir won't say anything and I sure as hells won't._

_But the baby… Bishop needs to know about the baby._

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her throat.

"Yes?" he prompted, resting his hand on her hip, "What?"

His touch caused her skin to tingle pleasurably. She had not lain with him in days, and her body was reacting far too quickly, clouding her judgment. She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her mind.

_Bishop, I'm with child. Your child. Just say it!_

"Bishop," she began, gasping slightly as his hand sneaked under her blanket to trace the rose on her hip, "I-"

He arched an eyebrow. "Am I distracting you?" he teased.

"Yes, now stop it;" she said seriously as his hand followed the curve of her waist, "This is important."

"So is this," he smirked, cupping and caressing a breast. He pulled her tightly against him. "Talk then; you wanted to."

She swallowed. Her courage failed her as her will faltered, the feel of his body against her bare skin nearly too much for her to bear.

"I-I-thank you, for your skinning knife," she lied, "It saved me."

_Well, damn, _she thought, _he doesn't have to know now. Not like this. Not when things are getting better._

"Oh, is that it?" he said playfully, pushing her onto her back, "I guess you're welcome then."

She bit her lip. She remembered what Casavir had said about trust.

"I want you to trust me," she blurted out, her mind feverish as his tunic and trousers fell to the floor, "I want your trust."

His hands slid up her sides as he nestled his head between her breasts, tracing the raised scar on her chest.

"You want my _what?_"

"I want your trust, Bishop," she whispered, desire consuming her, "I want your trust."

"You want my trust, do you?" he said quietly, moaning softly as she tangled her fingers in his chestnut hair, "Do I have yours?"

"Bishop, I'm naked and beneath you," she breathed, "Completely bared to you. What do you think?"

He paused for a brief moment, feeling a slight shock as he realized that she _did_ trust him. She had trusted him with her story of Lorne. Even now, she trusted him with her body; she trusted him not to hurt her as she opened herself to him. Nobody had ever trusted him as she did.

_I'm dangerous. I'm a murderer. Why in the hells would she trust _me?

_Do I trust her?_

_Your actions certainly don't show that you do, _his conscience said angrily, _your jealousy is rather obvious._

"Can't you give me your trust?" she whispered, her breaths rapid and shallow, "Please?"

_If you trust her, _his conscience snapped, _tell her. If you can't tell her, then _show_ her!_

He said nothing as he leaned in and gently stretched her arms above her head, his hold loose on her wrists. Cari gasped as he parted her legs with his knee, the softness of her thighs brushing against his hips. She bit her lip as her eyes fell below his waist.

"Bishop," she breathed, trembling slightly at the confident smirk on his face, "Please, just-"

Before she could finish, his lips found hers and he drew her into an exhilarating kiss, her soft thighs grazing his skin as he moved in close. She arched to take him, and he heard her whimper as he eased himself inside her, her body delightfully warm.

He let her wrists go and propped himself up on his hands, savoring the feel of her smooth skin brushing against his with every rocking motion of his hips. She could feel the blissful heat build inside her and she was lost; her head fell back as Bishop softly bit at the bared flesh of her throat, leaving tiny welts behind.

"Tell me, Bishop," she murmured, "Tell me you trust me."

He kissed her fervently before trailing his lips along her jaw to nestle in the tender spot beneath her ear. She groaned his name as her muscles grew taut, the tension within her building to its peak. She fused herself to him, feeling the heat and sweat on his skin, feeling the delicious length of him slide inside her.

"Please," she gasped, nearly pleading, "Tell me."

He gave in to her, tasting the sweetness of her flesh and plunging himself into her harder, deeper, his thrusts possessive, telling her that she was his, and _only_ his. She writhed beneath him, whimpering in pleasure, and with a final thrust she cried out his name, burying her face into his chest as she shuddered against him.

"Please," she whispered, her mind hazy with pleasure, "Give me your trust, Bishop, you have mine."

The sound of his name drove him over the edge; he roared her name in return and Cari felt every lithe, powerful muscle of his body stiffen as he thrust deep inside her. He whispered her name over and over as his release came, his mind lost in a world of smoldering eyes and wild hair, black as death.

Utterly spent, Bishop gasped for breath, waiting for the shaking in his arms to subside. Cari reached up and longingly tousled his hair, a lonely, sad smile touching her lips. He looked down at her and saw the sadness in her eyes, a solitary tear staining the sheets beneath her. It stirred something inside of him and he was surprised at the unusual wave of tenderness washing over him; her smile wavered as he gently stroked her cheek.

He leaned in and kissed her softly, breathing in the welcoming scent of vanilla and cinnamon. For a brief moment, Cari saw all the suspicion and anger fade from his face, replaced by curiosity and wonderment.

"I do trust you, Cari," he breathed, lost in some unknown and unfamiliar emotion, "I do trust you."

Cari forgot about everything but Bishop as she pulled his lips down to hers once more. "Thank you."

No more words passed between them as Bishop rolled onto his back, one arm behind his head and the other around Cari's waist. He pulled the blanket over them as she laid her head on the broad expanse of his chest, listening as the rapid beat of his heart gradually slowed.

Cari had nearly fallen asleep when there was a sharp knock at the door. She groaned.

"Yes?"

"It's Sand. I'm delivering a message from Nasher's favorite lapdog."

She groaned again, pressing her face into Bishop's shoulder. "What does Nevalle want?"

"He wanted me to relay to you the importance that you attend a celebration tomorrow night, in your honor," Sand drawled, his voice muffled by the door. "There will be a formal dinner and a ball. I would personally suggest that you wear the purple and black silk dress. You haven't worn that one yet."

Her heart pounded uncomfortably at the thought of wearing that dress in public. She swallowed and took a deep breath, wondering how Sand even knew about it. "With or without corset?"

Sand paused. Cari could hear his elegant fingers drumming against the door. "I would think with a corset. If nothing else it'll give Nevalle something to gape at and subsequently blush over. I want to see if Nasher gets jealous."

"What time does it start?"

"Sometime in the evening. Nevalle offered to let us prepare ourselves in the castle. I took the liberty to agree for you. Duncan's baths do little to aid personal hygiene."

Cari smiled. "All right then. Thanks, Sand. Please let the others know that we'll head to the castle later."

"Good," Sand quipped, "I've wanted to find out what Nevalle uses on his hair for years. Good day."

Bishop sighed heavily. "Do I have to go?"

"Do you want to?"

"Can I show you off to the other noblemen?" he said, grinning wolfishly.

"Are we going to have another repeat of Malin?"

"You had to bring _that_ up," Bishop scowled, "I doubt it."

"Then sure," she laughed, "You should wear your green tunic, you look good in that. You'll drive the ladies of the court crazy."

"Great, just what I need," he winked, "Ladies of the Neverwinter court pawing me."

She smiled sadly to herself as her arm rose and fell in time with his breaths. _He doesn't need to be burdened with the baby yet, _she thought as she closed her eyes, _not right now. Not when we're at peace._

_I'll tell him when I'm ready._


	20. Gifts and Deceit

(**Author's note: **I'd like to thank everyone for their kind reviews, they really do encourage me and keep me writing! Sadly, I've had some issues lately, both health and weather-related, that have prevented me from replying to each one individually. So, if I didn't get a chance, please, forgive me, it doesn't mean I appreciate it any less:D They really mean the world to me! I hope you enjoy the chapter! It's a bit of a set-up, really... so, enjoy! Thanks so much for reading!)

Bishop caught himself watching Cari as she slept. Her head was resting on his chest, her hair fanning out behind her like a cloud of shadow. She truly trusted him. She trusted him to keep her safe, to protect her at her most vulnerable.

And now, she was curled against his body, her arm wrapped around his waist and a peaceful smile on her lips. He wondered if he looked as tranquil when he slept. Did all the hurt, all the pain vanish from his face as he lay beside her?

Did he forget that which weighed on his mind? Did he forget about Luskan and Duncan and all the problems in his life? Did he forget about his past? Did he forget about his anger, his hatred?

Was he free, if just for a little while?

She looked so… human. She wasn't the _Kalach-Cha_ or the bane of Luskan; she wasn't a squire of Neverwinter or a Black Rose. She was just… Cari.

Never had he seen her so calm, so beautiful. She stirred at the feel of a feather-light kiss on her lips.

"Mmmm," she breathed, hugging him tightly, "What time is it?"

"Mid-morning," he whispered, kissing her again, "Not yet noon."

"Then why did you wake me up?" she teased, propping her arm on his chest and resting her chin on her hand. Her other hand found the trail of downy curls covering his stomach, and she smiled warmly as he gently brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. "Unless there was a reason…?"

Bishop chuckled. He opened his mouth to reply when a sharp knock on her door interrupted him. Karnwyr looked up from his usual spot on the floor beside Bishop; he gave a few wary sniffs and an indignant snort before curling up again, his nose touching the tip of his tail.

_Knocker is elf who smell like herbs, _Karnwyr sent to Bishop, _herbs and stuffy cat-_

"It's Sand," Bishop smirked. Cari groaned.

"Before you throw some heavy object at me," Sand's voice said, "Know that I am only the messenger. Although I don't know why, Duncan can deliver his own messages. I'm not his errand-boy, the smelly drunk-"

"You have a message?" Cari asked, interrupting Sand's slur of her uncle.

"Oh, yes. The ever-noble, always-perfectly-coiffed Sir Nevalle is here," he drawled, "With two chests for you. It looked important. Knowing Nasher, it's probably a fancy way to give you orders to put yourself into a situation of probable death in the name of Neverwinter. Again. I somehow doubt the chests contain heaps of sapphires."

Cari sighed.

"All right, I'll be right out. Thanks, Sand."

"If you really want to thank me," he snapped, "Tell your uncle to stop using me as a courier! I'm going back to my shop!"

Cari listened as Sand's already-faint footsteps faded away. She gasped, and then squealed as Bishop wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her on top of him, so that her knees rested on either side of his hips. He reached down, draped the blanket over her back and drew her in for a kiss.

"Now that we're alone," he whispered, stopping a mere breath from her lips, "Perhaps there _was_ a reason I woke you up." Cari giggled, but then jumped as Karnwyr let out a high-pitched whine. Both turned to look at the door, and Cari started laughing as Karnwyr scratched at the doorframe.

_What now? _Bishop asked the wolf, frustrated. _Could you have _worse_ timing?_

_If Bish going to mate again, Karnwyr want out of room. Karnwyr want to see tiny singing-man. Tiny singing-man give Karnwyr strips of meat and yummy bits of some kind of cake-_

_All right, my friend, all right… silly mutt…_

"I should probably go see to Nevalle," Cari said apologetically. "Can we continue this later?"

Grinning, Bishop gave her another kiss.

"Sure. Now, get going, the sooner you get out there, the sooner you can get back."

Cari slid off of him, hopped out of bed and let out a tiny yelp as his open palm found the bare skin of her backside. She threw him a look as she slipped into her dressing gown, and she blew him a kiss before sweeping out the door. Karnwyr looked around cautiously before sneaking over and leaping up on the bed.

_You know, _Bishop thought, arching an eyebrow at his companion,_ Cari hates it when you do that. _

_Karnwyr know, that why Karnwyr do it when mate not here. _

Bishop yawned and stretched, lacing his fingers behind his head. Karnwyr curled up at the foot of the bed, resting his furry muzzle on Bishop's shins.

_You know, Karnwyr, I could get used to this. Good food, good money, a warm bed… a beautiful woman to share it with… I really could get used to this._

The wolf sniffed again, this time in agreement, before closing his big, yellow eyes and going to sleep.

Bishop lay awake, staring at the ceiling and smiling, content for the first time in months.

-----

"Hells," Cari muttered, walking out into the common room, "Sand wasn't kidding when he said there were chests waiting for me-"

"These are gifts," a pompous voice said from behind her, "From your Lord Nasher. He sends his congratulations for your triumph."

Cari groaned as Nevalle rose from a table nearby, his expression haughty.

"Lord Nasher thought that you should be rewarded," Nevalle said arrogantly, "It is by your efforts that the Arcane Brotherhood has finally been expunged from Neverwinter. We are grateful."

"I'm glad," Cari sneered, her lip curling.

Nevalle decided to ignore her insolence. "I also stopped by to inform you that a carriage will be arriving in a few hours. It will take you and your companions to the castle to prepare for your banquet. I do suggest you dress appropriately. I would hate if you disgraced yourself."

"Ah, so no pressure then?"

The knight scowled. "Please heed my words, Carianna. Good day."

Cari made a face as Nevalle swept out the door, and Duncan poked his head out from underneath the bar.

"Aye, lass, is it safe to come out now?"

"Yes, Uncle, Nevalle's gone."

"Thank the gods," Duncan said, sighing with relief, "Care to see what Nasher's left you?"

"Why not?"

She turned to the chests, and with Duncan's help, eased the lids open. She knelt down and picked up an amulet. She silently made a note to ask Grobnar exactly what the locket was used for. Peering into the other chest, she groaned and her face fell.

_Well, Lord Nasher sure knows how to give gifts, _Cari thought, disdainfully, _Lorne's falchion. Oh, look, there's my blood! Great…_

_Wait, what's this?_

Cari bent over and pulled out a bloody, torn scrap of parchment. The words were erratic and poorly spelled, despite them being so short. She recognized Lorne's handwriting.

_Cari-_

_I'm sorry. Please tell Mom and Bevil I loved them._

_Lorne_

She stared at the note for a few moments before speaking. "I guess this means I'm going back to West Harbor," Cari said heavily, "Retta will want his sword."

Duncan's face fell. He hated it when she traveled. Cari attracted trouble like a wounded deer drew wolves.

"Do you have to go, lass?"

"It's important, Uncle, I'm sorry."

The barkeep frowned, his eyes sad. "If you must leave, please give Daeghun my regards. And by the gods, be _careful._"

"I will. Could you make us some food for the journey? And tell the others we'll be leaving tomorrow morning? I don't feel up to it right now."

"Of course, lass," Duncan smiled, pulling her into a warm embrace, "If you need anything, remember, I'm here. I'm going to start roasting some meat for the patrons tonight, if you'd like me to set some aside for your trip."

"Thanks, that would be nice," she whispered, "I'm heading back to my room for a bit. I'll be out before the banquet, I promise."

Duncan nodded, and went back to his cooking as Cari disappeared around the corner.

_I hope the lass will be all right, _Duncan thought, sprinkling seasoning over a slab of beef, _Something's bothering her. I know it._

-----

Minutes later, Bishop looked up as the door swung open again and Cari stepped over the threshold, looking utterly depressed.

"Well, don't you look like a bright ray of hope?" he smirked, "What, did Nevalle bring bad news?"

"Somewhat," she sighed, her lips pursed, "He brought Lorne's sword. I need to go back to West Harbor. I'm leaving tomorrow. The sooner I get this over with, the better."

"Why do you need to go?"

"I-I owe it to his mother to return his sword to her."

"Need a good scout?" he grinned, "Because I'd do anything to get out of the city for a while. Need to get back onto the open road. Kill something. Karnwyr's getting restless too. He hasn't been hunting in a while, and cats aren't the same. Besides, you need _someone _to watch your back."

"I could always use a good scout," she smiled. She giggled as Karnwyr looked up at her from the foot of her bed, his yellow eyes guilty. "Karnwyr really likes sleeping there, doesn't he?" Bishop nodded. "Well, if he really wants to, he can. However, my Uncle's roasting some meat for dinner right now, if he'd like some."

The wolf's nose twitched as the scent of seasoned beef tickled his nostrils. With a look of hunger glimmering in his eye, Karnwyr jumped from her bed and bolted out the door, knowing that Duncan would share a strip of meat with him.

Smiling seductively, Cari shut the door behind her, and Bishop sat up, his back resting against the headboard. He returned her smile as she walked towards him.

"Now that we're _truly_ alone," she whispered, pushing Nevalle and Lorne's falchion out of her mind and letting her dressing gown fall to her feet, "Let's discuss that reason you had for waking me up."

Bishop reached out, took her hands in his and pulled her onto the bed, easing her over his hips. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, nuzzling her neck. Cari gasped in excitement, and then frowned as he suddenly stopped, leaning back once more.

"Isn't it the first of the month?" he smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Caught off-guard, Cari's mouth dropped open. She swallowed quickly and nodded, her mind snapping back to thoughts of the baby. "Yes, yes it is," she agreed, "Sand should have my potion for me-"

"Then go get it, and come back. Then we'll continue. I can't have you getting with child," he winked, rubbing her belly.

Cari smiled awkwardly and got to her feet, avoiding Bishop's gaze. She absentmindedly threw on a tunic, paired it with a pair of simple trousers and headed for Sand's shop, hoping that Bishop couldn't see the worry on her face.

-----

She stepped out into the crisp morning air, feeling refreshed as the gentle breeze kissed her skin, flowing under her thin linen tunic. She shivered, reached up to tighten the laces, and flushed as she realized that she had put it on backwards.

_Brilliant, Cari, putting your clothes on backwards is a surefire way to let Bishop know something's off._

Cursing, she burst through Sand's door, sending Jaral hissing and spitting under a chair. Sand looked up from the beaker in his hand and arched an eyebrow as she dropped down into the chair beside him.

"Dear girl, are you aware your shirt is on backwards?"

Cari threw him a look.

"Apparently you are. Why are you here? Not another ale purgative, I hope, you shouldn't be drinking if you're with child."

"It's the first of the month, Sand. Bishop thinks I need my potion. I need to stay here long enough for him to think you've made it and I've taken it."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. Sand set down his beaker and sighed.

"Have you told Bishop about the baby?"

Cari shook her head.

"How much thought have you given this, Cari?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said seriously, "How much thought have you given to having this baby?"

Cari was slightly taken aback by both the question and his unusually solemn tone.

"Not much," she admitted, "I've only known for a short while. Why does it matter?"

"Because," the elf said firmly, "Think about it. You are with child. You have the chance to bring new life onto this plane, but what will this child's life be like? Can you care for a child? Can you give a child the love and support it needs?"

Cari frowned, thinking for a long while before answering. She was going to have her baby, and she would do her best to raise her child to be happy and healthy. Both could hear the nervousness and apprehension in her voice, but Cari was adamant. She would keep her baby.

After she finished, Sand sat in silence for a few moments before reaching out and awkwardly patting her on the back. Jaral jumped up into Cari's lap and nuzzled her chin, licking away the tears dripping off her cheeks.

"I admire your strength, Cari. But Bishop needs to know."

"I know. I actually have to go back to West Harbor, I'll tell him there. There's someone I have to talk to first."

Sand made a face, as if he had just tasted one of his own ale purgatives.

"You're going back to West Harbor?"

"I have to. I'd appreciate it if you would come with me."

"Dear girl, why would I _voluntarily_ go into the Mere? If I wished to dirty myself, I'd walk through Duncan's kitchen."

"Qara's not going."

Cari laughed at the expression on Sand's face.

"All right, all right, I will accompany you. Mystra knows you'll need a spellcaster."

"Thanks, Sand," Cari smiled, "We're going to leave tomorrow morning." She looked down at her drab clothing. "But I suppose I really should go to the castle to prepare for this ball, eh?"

"Unless you plan on wearing a backwards tunic, I would recommend it. I will be in attendance as well; I shall meet you there. Do you still need assistance with your corset?"

"Yes, thank you. I think enough time has passed for Bishop to think I've taken the potion, so I'm going to go back. Thanks for listening, Sand."

The elf nodded curtly and returned to his potion, stroking the head of the cat now sitting in his lap. Cari quickly straightened her tunic before she headed back to the Flagon.

After throwing a quick hello to her uncle, Cari finally pushed open the door to her room. She smiled to herself as she saw Bishop still sitting in her bed, reading the book that usually lay on her bedside table.

_Right now, we're happy. We're content, _she thought._ I'm not going to ruin it. I'm going to enjoy it for as long as I can._

Bishop raised his eyebrows as her clothes flew haphazardly onto a nearby chair, soon followed by the book in his hands. And with a mischievous grin curling her lips, Cari climbed in beside Bishop once more, and both vanished under her blanket for the remainder of the morning.

-----

Later that evening, Cari stood in the middle of a small bedroom, examining her reflection in a lavishly ornamented mirror. True to his word, Sand had helped her into her corset, explaining that the unyielding fabric posed no threat to her unborn child.

Thinking about her baby, she pressed her hand against her stomach, and tears welled in her eyes. She felt a strange, but comforting connection to the tiny life growing inside her, and it mixed with an unfamiliar burst of happiness. She was content with knowing that, for the first time in her life, someone would love her unconditionally.

Smiling joyously, Cari pulled the purple-and-black dress from the dusty box sitting on the table beside her. Despite her good mood, she felt a twinge of sadness as the silk floated between her fingers, bringing back memories of the day it was presented to her by Sitae, the matron of Martin's temple.

"_You'll look stunning," Sitae had said, handing Cari the thin black box, "Absolutely breathtaking. And Martin will be dressed in his best robes. It's only fitting that you both look your best for the ceremony."_

"_The priests and I have been waiting for this for years!" the elf had said happily, kissing Cari on the cheek, "We had always hoped and prayed that Martin would take a wife! He couldn't have chosen a more beautiful bride!"_

Cari cleared her throat, blinking away the tears threatening to escape from the corners of her eyes. She eased herself into the dress, and with one final glimpse in the mirror, she slipped out the door, gladly taking Bishop's offered arm before joining up with the others.


	21. Dances and Jealousy

(**Author's note: **Alright everyone, I'm feeling much better than I was, thankfully, so I'm glad to have gotten this chapter written! The dance scene is dedicated to femensqueterror, so I hope she enjoys it! Once again, thank you very, very much for your reviews, they mean the world to me! Also, if you live outside the US, I have been having some trouble getting/sending emails/messages, due to some error on my end, but it has been fixed, I hope! Anyway, this is more plot, and a bit of Cari angst, so, enjoy! Thank you for reading! A special thank you to Cro-Magnon for helping me out with it!)

Cari was _not _having a good time.

_All right, apparently my hair is too long, my skin too pale, and I'm wearing too much kohl._

_I'm just glad I covered up my brands, or else they'd have something _else_ to gossip about._

Her attempts to block out the incessant whispers of the noblewomen were failing miserably.

"Would you look at that dress?"

"_I_ think it's _lovely_."

"But her shoulders are bare! And look at her cleavage! Scandalous!"

She groaned painfully.

_Between this and taking on a swarm of bloodthirsty orcs? I'd take the orcs right now._

_I doubt orcs care whether or not my shoulders are bare, they just want to kill me._

"Did you _see_ the man she was with?"

"Goodness, yes! If adventuring gets you a man like that, sign me up!"

_Oh, Cyric-_

"So, having fun?" Bishop smirked. He laughed at the disgusted look on her face. "You look like you've just tasted some of Shandra's stew."

"Shandra's cooking would cause me less pain than listening to these gossiping fools."

Cari looked around, and her gaze fell upon the quartet standing on a velvet-covered dais in the middle of the room. The handsome, fair-haired bard struck up a lively tune with his mandolin, accompanied by the sharp, even drumbeat of the halfling beside him. The beautiful redhead with the trumpet joined in, soon followed by the elegant sounds of the chimes, clutched tightly in the hands of the elf standing behind her. Cari sighed sadly, prepared to sit out another dance as Bishop stood beside her, shifting uncomfortably.

_It wouldn't be so bad if Bishop would at least _try _to dance. It would certainly kill the boredom._

_Though, humiliation probably isn't the best way to go about that. Oh well._

After a few moments of silence, she gasped as Bishop grabbed her hand and pulled her into the center of the dance floor. He clumsily held her close, trying to recall motions last used years ago.

"What are you _doing?_" she hissed. She winced as Bishop accidentally trod on her foot.

He took a deep breath. "Dancing."

_Well, careful what you wish for and all that…_

Cari chuckled as his second step missed her feet, but landed on the hem of her dress. He swore.

"Let's just sit this one out," she whispered, "it'll be fine."

_I'm not going to be outdone by these noblemen, _he thought. _I won't let them._

"No," he growled, listening closely to the beat of the music, "No. I won't."

Seconds passed, and Bishop took another tentative step, willing his muscles to remember movements long forgotten. Gradually, he grew more confident, his steps measured and calculated, and Cari stared at him in shock.

"How'd you learn to dance?" she asked quietly as Bishop twirled her away from him, "I didn't know you could."

Bishop then pressed his hand to her stomach, pinning her back to his chest and eliciting a tiny gasp in response.

"I'm not an utterly uncultured fool," he whispered, pulling on her hand to turn her back to him, "I once knew most of the steps, but Casavir _did_ help."

Cari made a mental note to thank Casavir as Bishop's other hand found the small of her back. He took a step backwards, guiding her with him, and then he stopped. Smiling playfully, Cari leaned far back, letting her hair brush along the floor. In the same fluid, graceful movement, she extended her leg out behind him, completely trusting him with her body. Caught up in the moment, she ignored more indignant whispers from the nobles.

The tempo of the music raced, and Bishop spun Cari in faster and faster turns, causing her dress to float away from her. The music crested, and he suddenly stopped, pulling her firmly against him and closing any space left between their bodies.

Bishop pressed his lips against her neck as he cupped his hand under her knee to lift her leg. Cari gasped as he was suddenly holding her in the air, her knee and lower leg pressed against his waist, Bishop's other hand holding her tightly against him.

"Did Casavir teach you _that?_" she asked, a little breathless as she pressed her breasts into his chest.

He said nothing, instead choosing to tangle his fingers in her hair. He kissed her hungrily, pointedly disregarding the disgusted faces of those around him.

"Such behavior."

"And at a banquet like _this?_ Scandalous!"

Bishop chuckled, pulled away, and gently set her down.

"That," he breathed, "Was _mine._"

Cari giggled.

Bishop started to speak, but then narrowed his eyes as Sir Edmund descended upon them.

"My squire," he smirked, dipping into a ridiculous bow, "Would you join me for a dance?"

"Don't let it be more than a dance," growled the ranger.

Edmund chuckled.

"Don't worry, m'boy, I'll take good care of your woman."

Before Bishop could speak again, Edmund had swept Cari off, leaving him behind to find solace at the bottom of a wine goblet.

-----

It was Bishop's turn to be miserable.

Despite four goblets of wine, his mood was _not _improving.

_If Edmund asks for another dance, I swear… I'll remove his knighthood._

Bishop glowered; he growled softly as he occasionally caught a glimpse of Cari's shining hair as she twirled with her knight.

_That man is too charming for his own good. The meddlesome bastard…_

So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn't notice as a slim woman stepped in front of him.

"Bishop?" the woman purred, eyeing Bishop as though he were the mouse to her predatory cat.

The ranger arched an eyebrow and gave the woman an appraising look.

_Mousy-brown hair, blue eyes, ugly yellow dress, maybe five feet even, decent skin, but no curves and tiny breasts._

Then he recognized her. He groaned.

_Oh, hells, not _Saelinda_. How drunk _was _I that night?_

_Could this evening _get_ any worse?_

"What do you _want, _Saelinda?" Bishop whined, "Leave me be. I thought I made it clear to you once before, I am _not_ interested."

"Such a _harsh_ greeting for me," the woman pouted, "You once said such sweet words. Are you here with someone? Who is she? Unless it's a man, of course…"

Bishop snorted.

"For your information, wench, I'm here with my lover. Cari and I-"

Saelinda burst out laughing.

"You seriously expect me to believe you're here with _her? _The_ squire?_" she squealed, "Please, you're-you're not serious, are you?" she asked, seeing the ugly expression on Bishop's face.

"Yes, I am."

"Why are you with that swamp girl, hmm?" Saelinda wrapped her arms around Bishop's shoulders, stood on her toes, and attempted to give him a kiss. He moved away at the last moment, avoiding her lips. Saelinda pouted. "You and I had such fun, Bishop! Hours and hours, and into the early morning…"

Bishop pried Saelinda's hands from around his neck and pushed her away.

"Leave me alone. Or do you not understand my words?"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," she snarled, blushing bright red with embarrassment, "Did our time in bed mean _nothing _to you?"

"Correct. Now leave me be. You were _tolerable_, at best. Even more so after a few tankards of ale."

Saelinda's lip curled viciously. She grabbed the front of Bishop's tunic and pulled him down so that her heavily-painted lips brushed against his ear. He flinched.

"I know of your mark, remember?" she hissed, kissing the hidden brand on his neck, "I know what you are, no matter how hard you try to hide it. And for you to be with a squire of Neverwinter? She's too good for you, whelp. You know it, and I know it. I wonder what _she'll_ do when she realizes it-"

She stopped at the feel of sharp fingernails digging into her shoulder. She turned, and found herself face-to-face with Cari, who looked murderous.

"Who are you?" Cari hissed.

"I'm Saelinda," said the other woman, "And I suppose you're Bishop's new plaything?"

"I'm his lover."

"Ah, yes, so you _are _his new plaything," Saelinda taunted, "Well, enjoy him while you can. He'll eventually get bored and-"

"Leave my lover alone, wench," Cari snarled, smiling cruelly, "Or, I swear on the Black Sun himself, you will regret it."

Before Saelinda could retort, she was interrupted by Nevalle's slightly nasal voice.

"Dinner will be served shortly. Please, everyone, take your seats."

Saelinda glared at Cari for a few moments more before stomping off towards the banquet table. Cari failed to stifle a groan as she realized that Saelinda was sitting on Bishop's right.

_Well, _she thought, this_ will be fun._

-----

_Is the evening over yet?_

Dinner had been rather uneventful. Cari disregarded the hushed whispers of the nobles around her, who were _now _critiquing her style of eating. Only Bishop seemed to be as miserable as she was, keeping his gaze fixed on his plate.

_Poor thing, he's probably bored out of his mind._

Cari reached out to caress his thigh when she froze. A hand was already there.

_What in the bloody hells?_

It took some seconds before realization dawned. She looked at Saelinda, who looked revoltingly pleased with herself. Saelinda's left hand was under the table.

Jealousy caused Cari's blood to boil in her veins. Bishop gave her a guilty, pleading look.

_Now I know why he was so interested in his plate…_

Cari clenched her teeth and stared at her hands. She was shaking with rage.

_I warned the willing-arms, _she though, her heart racing, _I warned her. Now she will pay._

_Cyric will get his blood today._

Cari bided her time, waiting for an opportunity. Bishop had managed to remove Saelinda's hand from his lap, but Cari was still furious. Then, when Saelinda excused herself to go to the powder room, Cari sensed her opportunity. She waited a few moments, and then excused herself as well, stating that she needed some air, and would go outside for a walk.

Bishop nodded. He watched as she disappeared through a doorway, leading to a garden where a large, intricately-carved ice sculpture of a bird stood. Feeling slightly neglected, he turned his attention back to his steak, which had suddenly become less-than-appetizing.

Minutes passed, and out of sheer boredom, Bishop began stabbing his steak with his knife. Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream cut through the air, and he jumped. A noblewoman, wearing a lush blue dress, stumbled into the banquet hall with tears streaming down her face.

"Someone's been murdered!" she wailed, pointing in the direction of the powder room, "A woman's been murdered! A woman in a yellow dress!"

The guards and most of the Nine rushed off in the direction the woman in blue had come. Moments later, Bishop noticed Cari return. She wore a smug, triumphant smile as she smoothed out her long, black skirt. She caught his eye and jerked her head, pointing towards a nearby exit. Bishop gave one last look of longing at his steak before rising from the table and following her out.

As they walked out, Bishop noticed that someone had clumsily broken a sharp feather off of the ice sculpture. He leaned in to mention it to Cari when she slipped her hand into his.

Her hand was as cold as ice.

-----

Later that night, Cari was lying on her side, resting her head on her hands. She groaned in irritation as Bishop softly kissed her neck, his hands roaming over her body. He pressed his chest against her back, holding her close.

"I'm not in the mood, Bishop," she whispered, pulling away from his touch, "I'm sorry."

"Mmmm," he said softly, caressing her stomach, "But what if I could get you_ into_ the mood?" One hand wandered over her hips and along the inside of her thighs.

"I _said,_" she grumbled, shifting away from him, "I'm _not _in the mood."

Bishop's face darkened.

"And why is _that_, lover?" he said angrily, "Have I _disappointed_ you in some way?"

He watched her closely, noticing how she fiddled with a tiny hole in her sheets.

"Why didn't you stop that Saelinda woman?" she blurted out, "I mean, the bitch was all over you. _You_ should have told her to leave you the hells alone."

"What?" he asked, frowning, "You think I _didn't?_"

"Well, she seemed _awfully _persistent-"

"If you trusted me, like you said you did, then this wouldn't have been an issue. You said you _trusted_ me," Bishop growled, studying her face, "Was that a lie? Was that a lie, like so many women before you? Pretty words, said in the moment? Honeyed words, so I'd indulge you?"

"No," Cari said quickly, "It-it wasn't a lie! It's _her _I didn't trust. Women like that are conniving she-eels-"

"You said you trusted _me,_" he hissed, "And I now see that it _was _a lie. Why the pretty words, Carianna?"

"They weren't pretty words!" she cried, "I do trust you, I-I was just jealous! And scared!"

Bishop blinked in surprise.

"You were scared? Why?"

Cari kept her mouth tightly shut.

_I know why I was scared. What if that whore was right? What if Malin was right? I was scared of not being able to touch you. I was scared of not being able to sleep beside you. I was scared of losing you._

_But I can't tell you that, can I? I can't get attached. You can't get tied down. It doesn't matter that I'm carrying your child. It doesn't matter that I… I think I've come to care for you. _

_I know I shouldn't. So you can't know. You can't yet know about the baby. You can't know about my feelings, or I'll lose everything._

"I just was, all right? And I do trust you. I-I'm sorry."

"If you _really _trusted me, then it shouldn't have been a problem," he barked, looking away from her, "And please, words are meaningless and empty, therefore, they mean _little_ to _me_. If you're really sorry for your actions, then _show _it."

She started to speak, but she hesitated, remembering the previous night.

_Bishop doesn't care for words, _she thought, _I have to show him in ways _he _understands._

Her fingertips found the coarse hair on his cheeks.

"I _am_ sorry," she whispered, tenderly kissing him. She nuzzled in close before hooking her foot around his leg and pulling his thigh between hers.

"I am _really _sorry, Bishop."

He moaned softly, tracing the scar above her breast.

"Show me, Cari. Don't tell me. _Show _me."

Grinning wickedly, Cari pushed hard against his chest. Thoroughly unprepared for her attack, he rolled onto his back. She took advantage of his surprise and pounced: she straddled his waist and gripped him tightly with her knees. She ran a hand roughly through his hair before linking her fingers with his and pulling his arms over his head.

He arched an eyebrow.

"And _what, exactly_, are you doing?"

Cari smiled warmly.

"Showing you."

-----

Later, when Bishop's deep, rhythmic snores told Cari that he was asleep, she finally snuggled up against him, pressing her back against his chest and pulling his arm around her waist. He shifted in his sleep and clutched her tightly, pulling her closer than he ever would have, had he been awake.

After what felt like hours, Cari eventually found sleep. Lying beside Bishop's warm body, his arms wrapped around her in a possessive, protective embrace, was almost enough to take her mind off of both her journey and their unborn child.

Almost.


	22. Confessions, Part I

**Author's Note:** All right, I'm changing the format on these things a bit, in a hope to make them less jumbled. After fighting my way through computer viruses, health-related viruses, and life in general, I have this chapter to show for it! I hope you enjoy it, it is definitely rated T-M for violence towards the end, and that bit is intense, so, be forewarned! And, of course, thank you so much for the reviews, they have been a tremendous inspiration for me :) I hope you enjoy, it's emotional:)

* * *

_I'm mad. I'm barking mad. It's finally happened. I'm insane. I mean, it's not like I wasn't before, but now it's official._

_Why do I _do_ this to myself?_

Cari paced back and forth at the base of a large tree, throwing the occasional furtive glance towards the Starling house. Her friends were scattered around West Harbor: Casavir sat on a rock near the training grounds, sharpening his sword with long, even strokes of his whetstone. Sand stood nearby, massaging his temples. Cari had never seen him look so miserable. He looked mere seconds away from blasting Grobnar with a fireball.

Shandra and Neeshka were standing amidst a group of young children, including Bevil's younger siblings, who seemed fascinated by Neeshka's horns and tail. Bishop had taken Karnwyr into the Mere to hunt, and Khelgar was back in Neverwinter, along with Qara.

_Khelgar's probably drunk and Qara's probably cleaning up after him, _Cari thought, _Serves the annoying brat right._

_I can only hope Khelgar is drinking a _lot.

Looking around, Cari noticed that Bevil was nowhere to be found.

_That's probably good, I-I'm not sure I can talk to him right now. I need to talk to Retta first._

_Well, I guess it's now or never…_

Sighing heavily, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked what felt like leagues to the Starling's front door. Running her fingers nervously through her long hair, she knocked.

The door opened, and a pretty, older woman, with long, gray hair pulled back in a bun stood on the threshold, smiling uncomfortably. Cari bowed her head and smiled painfully in response.

"Cari! What an unexpected surprise!"

"Hello, Retta," Cari said softly, staring at her feet, "It has been too long."

"Quite. Do come in." The older woman gestured Cari into a small, but cozy foyer. "I'm afraid Bevil isn't home right now, he's training with what's left of the militia, but he will be… happy to know you're back. How long will you be staying this time?"

"I'm not sure," Cari admitted, "I have some business to take care of, but then I must leave."

Retta smiled sadly.

"I understand. Perhaps it would be better if Bevil did not know you were even here. I do not want him to mourn for you again."

Cari blinked, confused. "Mourn for me? What do you mean?"

Retta's face darkened in hurtful anger on behalf of her son.

"Normally, I would not say this, as it's not my place, but you need to stay away from Bevil. I know he will be angry at me, but I'd rather not see him hurt."

"What?"

"He pines for you, Cari. Every day, he pines for you. And it _pains_ me to see him like that. Bevil still cares deeply for you. I think he still harbors the hope that one day you'll settle down and marry him, like you had once planned. And I don't want him to get his hopes up, only to have them crushed again."

Cari stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I-I didn't know. He still wants to marry me?"

"Yes, Cari," Retta said sadly, "He still clings on to the hope that you still love him. I just want my boy to be happy, and your presence here will only cause him further pain. Unless you intend to stay, and settle down…"

Cari took a step backward, ashamed of the tears welling in her eyes.

"I_ can't_ stay, Retta."

"Of_ course _you can't. You never could. You ran out on my son once, all those years ago. Tell me, Carianna, what is so wrong with Bevil that you can't stay with him? You once loved him. Are you too good for him now? Is that it?"

"No-"

"Then what is it? Were you always too good for him? All I know is how happy he was when you were with him. And then you left, and it killed him."

"I-"

"What was it, Carianna? Why could you no longer love my son? What horrible thing has he done to you? What-?"

A small voice spoke up from the back of Cari's mind.

_Tell her the truth._

"Stop, please!" Cari cried, "You don't know _anything_ about what I think! About who I am!"

"All I know is you abandoned my son, Carianna, and you're going to do it again, if given the chance. I just want my son to be happy."

"I can't marry Bevil, Retta! I can't! I'm sorry!"

_Tell her the truth._

"Why not? Is he not as good as all those men I'm sure you met on your travels? Is he not as good as that dark-haired man I saw you with earlier?"

Cari flushed.

"Don't bring Bishop into this!"

_She deserves to know the truth. Tell her how you feel. She was like a mother to you. Tell her the truth!_

"Tell me _why,_ Cari. Please, just tell me _why _you insist on abandoning my son. I just want to know _why_."

_Damn it all, you bloody fool, tell her the-_

"He deserves _better_ than me!" she cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks, years of insecurity finally bursting out, "He deserves better than me, Retta! You don't know what I've done! You don't know what I did while I was away! He deserves a loving, caring, good wife, and that's not me!"

Cari yanked up the hem of her tunic, exposing the black rose on her hip.

"_This_ is why I can't marry Bevil, Retta. It is because of this mark that I can't marry your son. Ever. Don't you understand? He deserves better than me!"

"What does that mark even _mean?_ Are you a… a goldglint darling? I'm sure Bevil would forgive-"

"It brands me as an assassin, Retta!" Cari interrupted, finally telling someone the truth, "It brands me as a murderer! I won't _let _Bevil marry me. I won't have him share the burden of my past. And that's not all, Retta. I'm _pregnant_."

It was Retta's turn to take a step back.

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant. You wanted to know why I can't marry Bevil, and I'm telling you. I'm nearly four months pregnant. Of course, the father doesn't know, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm pregnant. I don't _deserve _a man like Bevil, Retta. I don't. I'm not worthy of a man like him. He deserves a beautiful woman, whole in every way, not me. Not a pregnant murderer. You say I don't love your son. It was out of love that I ran from him!"

Retta gaped at her, speechless. Cari buried her face in her hands and fell to her knees, sobbing.

"You think I don't love Bevil, Retta?" she whispered, "I still love him. I always have, and a part of me always will. But I won't have him share the blood on my hands. He deserves so much more than that, so much more than me."

Cari flinched as Retta knelt on the floor beside her and pulled her into an embrace. Retta smelled of rosewater. It reminded Cari of happier times.

"I-I had no idea," Retta said quietly, gently stroking Cari's hair, "I had no idea you were hurting so much. You carry such a weight on your shoulders, child. Everything will be all right. You'll see. It will be."

For a brief moment, Cari allowed herself to hope, to hope for her old life, before-

"No, Retta, it can't. It won't. I have done too much to go back to what I was. I am sorry."

Retta held her tighter.

"It's all right, Cari, it really is. I-I hadn't realized the burden you bear. I never knew how much damage my… my Lorne really did."

Cari's heart suddenly found itself in her stomach.

"Retta, about Lorne…"

Fresh tears cascaded down her face as Cari told Retta about the false accusations, about the trial, about the fight, about everything. She rummaged around in her pocket as she spoke, and she managed to hand Lorne's crumpled note to Retta.

As Retta read, Cari untangled herself from the embrace, and struggled to pull a large bundle off her back. Traveling with it had proven to be a strain, as it was large and awkward to carry, but Cari had insisted she bear the burden herself, dismissing Casavir's offers of assistance. She carefully unfolded the blanket wrapped around the blade. It had served its purpose: protecting Cari from the razor-sharp edge and from the unwelcome, accusing eyes of those who would recognize it.

"Here," Cari whispered, "You should have this as well. I am sorry, Retta, I really am. I did not want it to end this way."

Retta stared at the dried blood on Lorne's falchion, trying not to envision the horrific atrocities committed by a simple piece of steel.

"I… thank you, Cari," she murmured, stiffly rising from the floor. Her eyes took on a haunted, sorrowful cast. "I know this must not have been easy for you, but, please, I need some time alone to mourn. I hope you understand. At least he is at peace."

Cari nodded and stood up as well. She smiled sadly as Retta gave her one last, painful embrace. The older woman held her as she walked her to the door.

"Don't tell Bevil about his brother," said Retta, "If you should see him, that is. I will. There's no sense in him hating you."

"Of course."

Cari turned to leave when Retta pulled her back.

"And, Cari, about the baby… Tell him, child. Tell the father. It won't get easier the longer you wait. Also, while you're here, go see Brother Merring. It doesn't look like you've got a cleric with you, and Brother Merring is a follower of Lathander. He'll know a thing or two about babies."

"I will," Cari said softly, smiling slightly, "Thank you, Retta, for everything."

Feeling happier than she had in ages, happier than she had a right to, Cari left. She wandered through the Starling's garden, thinking about heading to Brother Merring's house, thinking about Retta's words.

_I'll tell Bishop, _she told herself, _I _will_ tell him. I'm sick of the secrets, sick of the lies._

_Though… not right now. It needs to be private. _

_And it won't be private in the middle of West Harbor with everyone staring at us._

_I just need to tell him. I just…_

She sighed, realizing the only place where she felt comfortable telling him.

_I just wish that we could talk _out _of the bedroom.  
_

_Even though it _can_ be a pleasant distraction…_

-----

Bishop had returned. Cari smiled as she saw him leaning against the tree that shaded the house she had shared with Daeghun. Bishop arched an eyebrow as she wordlessly grabbed his wrist, led him up to her room, and shut the door behind them.

"Is your father home?" he growled, "This would have been more fun to do with him downstairs…"

"He's out hunting for our dinner."

Cari sighed happily as she felt Bishop's strong hands on her shoulders, massaging out the morning's tension.

Bishop turned her around to face him, and then leaned in and kissed her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She eased him over to her bed, where it became a race to get rid of needless clothing. He trailed kisses over the tattoo on her chest, and he felt his lips tingle with magical energy as he brushed against the jagged scar above her breast. Cari reached down and brushed her fingernails over the taut muscles of his stomach, drawing in his strength through her fingertips.

She followed the line of soft hair up to where it fanned out over his chest, and he groaned as she gently stroked the dusky nipples beneath her fingers. He kissed her once more, and he smiled against her lips as he playfully pushed on her knees. Instinctively, she obeyed, parting her legs. He pulled back to plunge himself inside her, but then noticed her face. He paused, and realizing she had been caught, Cari forced a smile.

"You all right?" he asked, "You look… troubled."

"No, I'm fine," she lied, "Please, don't stop."

Gritting his teeth, he frowned, resisting the urge to bury himself inside her regardless.

"I'm not going to _bother_ if you don't really want it," he growled, frustrated, "What is going on?"

Realizing another lie wouldn't help the situation, Cari sighed.

"It's not you," she mumbled, looking everywhere but the piercing amber above her, "I-I just have a lot on my mind."

"Well, what is it then?" he snapped, "If not me. Tell me, so we can deal with it, and then I'll continue."

Cari took a deep breath. Despite everything, she felt safe and guarded by Bishop's powerful body. It strengthened her resolve.

"Bishop, we need to talk."

"All right then. Talk. You've been acting strangely ever since that_ bloodbath_ with Lorne. What's going on?"

_Cyric, please, as your faithful servant, please help me…_

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she said quietly, "I-I'm so sorry, Bishop, after I finally woke up, after… after Lorne, Casavir-"

"He didn't touch you, did he?" Bishop snarled, "Because if he did, I swear-"

"No," Cari said quickly, "No, he didn't. We were talking, and… and I noticed I was really nauseous, so Casavir went and found Sand, and, well, poor Sand had just come out of the bath…"

"Sand was naked with you_ and_ the paladin?"

She glared up at him. Her heart was thudding in her chest.

_Tell him, Cari. You have to. Do it now!_

_Cyric, help me…_

"Bishop, I'm pregnant."

-----

"_Bishop, I'm pregnant."_

The words ricocheted inside his head. He stared at her, his mouth agape.

"You… you're _pregnant?_" he asked, not willing to believe. "You're _pregnant?_"

"I'm so sorry," she moaned, tears welling in her eyes, "I-I am, Bishop. I'm pregnant. Three months along, nearly four."

He shook his head violently, as though trying to shake her words from his mind.

"No! How?"

"I don't know. I-I guess something went wrong. It was an accident-"

"You can't be pregnant," he raged, fire burning in amber, "You can't be. You took Sand's potion no more than two tendays ago-"

"It was a tenday ago, and I didn't, Bishop," she whispered, "I-I didn't need to. I was already pregnant, we couldn't get pregnant _again_."

His brain had frozen in shock.

_She-_

_She_ lied_ to me._

_How-?_

_How_ could _she?_

Anger boiled inside him, overwhelming the shock. Without thinking, he lashed out and backhanded her across the face. Cari froze, not quite believing what he had just done. Slowly, she brought her hand to her aching mouth. It shone with blood, and she recoiled, fearful.

"Bishop, I-I'm so sorry-"

His anger was gnawing at him, consuming him. Satisfaction at her stunned expression goaded him. Vengeance whispered in his mind. He reared back, and he smacked her again, hard.

"Let me guess," he said viciously, "You're going to keep it?"

Cari paled. His face darkened.

"Why? What makes you think that you're actually_ fit _to be a mother?"

"Because my mother kept _me,_ that's why!" she said defensively, "My mother could have abandoned me, but she didn't! She died for me! I'm going to do my best to raise our child as best I can! I won't abandon _our_ child, Bishop!"

"You whore." He struck her once more, and the force knocked her face into her pillow. She tasted blood again.

"Bishop, stop-"

"No!" he bellowed, slapping her a fourth time, "You liar! You _bitch!_ How could you? I-I _trusted_ you! After all your talk about trust, it really was just meaningless words!"

Cari tried to wriggle herself out from under Bishop's weight, but he grabbed her wrists and yanked her arms above her head. She saw the feral light of battle shining in his eyes and she started to tremble, frightened.

"Bishop, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up!" Cari winced and prepared herself for another blow, but none came. Instead, she felt his other hand close around her throat. For a brief moment, she was unsure of what was happening, but then his grip tightened. Cari's eyes grew wide as he squeezed tighter and tighter.

_Oh, Cyric, no…_

There was no mercy in his eyes. She twisted and jerked against his powerful hold on her, but to no avail. She tried to kick him, but he shifted and pinned her legs between his. Stars exploded behind her eyes as she fought for breath… the dagger under her pillow useless…

_I could crush the life out of her right now; _Bishop thought wildly, _I could get rid of the baby, my debt, the obligations, and the chains._

_I've killed stronger than her. It would be so simple. And I would be free._

_But _would _you be free? Or would you be hunted? Don't forget, her father is a tracker. You would be caught in a tenday, tops._

_Why is she trying to trap me? Why is she trying to shackle me? After promising me that she wouldn't, why?_

Is _she? Has she asked anything from you? All she said was that she was pregnant. Did she ask you for anything?_

_Well, no…_

_No, she didn't. And now you are strangling her, with every intention of killing her. So, are you?_

_Am I what?_

_Are you going to kill her?_

She had stopped struggling some time ago and now lay limp beneath him. Her eyes, chillingly blank, stared up at him accusingly, and her lips were a frightening blue.

_Is she dead?_

_I-I…_

_I don't know. _

_I…_

_I can't. Hells, I can't. _

_What's_ wrong _with me? It's not like I care about her, right?_

_Don't ask me, _his conscience drawled, _I'm not a seer, I'm a figment of your imagination._

Bishop let her go and rocked back on his heels, watching her closely. She stared up at nothing for what felt like an age. Then her body started jerking, and her stomach heaved, trying to force air into starved lungs. Her back arched, arms flailing wildly as she finally rasped in sweet, delicious air. A necklace of angry red welts encircled her throat and neck. Marks his hand had caused; marks he had given her.

He slid off the bed as Cari rolled over, drew her knees to her chest, and started coughing, trying to lift the gray shroud clouding her vision.

_I almost killed her. Does she realize how close I came to killing her?_

_To the Hells with this, debt or no debt, I'm out of here._

Bishop calmly buckled himself into his leathers as Cari wheezed and sputtered, desperately filling her aching lungs.

"I can't handle this, Cari. I'm leaving, and I'm _not_ coming back."

He heard her croak out in anguish, and she reached out to grasp at his cloak. He calmly turned on his heel, walked down the stairs, and out into the chilly evening air. Cari struggled to her knees, and she managed to claw herself up to the window above her bed in time to see Bishop disappear into the Mere, with Karnwyr trotting along beside him.


	23. Dreams, Part II

**Author's Note: **Sorry about taking so long to update! I wanted to get this one right too, so after much waffling and work, I think I got it down. This one is dark and intense, so I'd definitely rate this chapter an M, just for the thematic elements. So, I hope you enjoy it! I wanted to thank you all for your reviews, they really mean the world to me. And please don't be offended if I don't reply right away, real life has been harsh on me and my computer lately, so... I'm sorry if I don't reply at once! Enjoy the chapter, I hope you do, the style is quite a bit different from my other chapters, but I think it works for this one: )

* * *

Sighing painfully, Daeghun shook his head. Cari lay on her side, facing the door. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and she seemed to look through him.

_Not again. Not again._

Reliving the brutal, terrible night from years ago, he opened his trunk, grabbed a thick, black cloak and a small scroll. He returned to Cari's room. She barely registered his presence.

"Does this have something to do with your baby?" Her eyes met his for a brief moment. "I knew you were pregnant from the moment I saw you. I caught it on your scent. You smell like the dark one, the one who stands as your companion. The one, I am sure, did this to you."

She said nothing. He shook his head again. Her eyes closed as he murmured the incantation from the scroll in her ear. He took great care to wrap her in the cloak before he hailed Casavir.

"My daughter is in no condition to travel," Daeghun said curtly as they mounted the stairs to her room, "She will need to be transported. I will ask one of our farmers, Orlen, to lend you his horse and cart. He does not need it right now. It is long before the harvest."

Casavir nodded and picked up her knapsack and swords. Daeghun tucked the cloak around her, more to cover her than to comfort her. He turned back to Casavir.

"You are a man of honor. Keep my daughter safe."

ooooo

_Martin had been wrong. I was not safe in the temple, as he had promised me._

_He had let me stay in his bed my first night there, but he soon left on business. He had promised he would return. I had fallen asleep grateful for a warm bed instead of my threadbare bedroll, but now they were there._

_They had come for me, as part of me had known they would._

_They dragged me from his bed, ignoring my feeble attempts to fight them off. I was carry-dragged, kicking and screaming, for a while before being dropped on the cold, stone floor. I was yanked to my feet before they stripped off my sweaty nightshirt. My wrists and ankles were shackled to chains leading into the roof and bolted to the floor._

_They left taking the only light with them. The room was dark and cold. At first, I screamed. I begged. I cried. Nobody came._

_My voice grew hoarse. I soon stopped screaming._

_I don't know how long I was kept there. I was given water occasionally; food less frequently, often moldy and rancid._

_When I didn't die, they replaced most of my meals with whippings._

_I prayed for help from gods like Torm and Tyr, but it only encouraged them. I learned that prayers to Cyric stopped them, but by then the stripes crisscrossed my back. _

_I thought I had made it. _

_The door to my cell had opened. A group of men had filed in as the chains pulled tight once more to suspend me, hanging spread-eagled in the air. Their faces were hidden as always. The last one in shut the door and barred it. I was not scared. It was time for another whipping._

_The men formed a circle around me. The tallest one stood before me. A black pendant hung from his neck. His voice, when he spoke, was deep and somewhat familiar._

"_Use her as much as you want. Break her, but do not damage her. Is that understood?"_

_The other men bowed. When the tall man had left, the men swarmed and took me._

_I died then._

ooooo

"Did you get some food?" Shandra asked, rising from the edge of the bed to help Neeshka through the door.

"I have some soup and some water," Neeshka said, setting the tray down on the bedside table, "The innkeeper - Jorik, or something - has some heartier stuff, but I didn't think she could handle it."

"Good enough."

Shandra carefully cradled Cari's head in her lap, scooped up a spoonful of soup, and gently eased it into Cari's mouth. Neeshka watched, scowling, as Shandra massaged Cari's throat, ensuring she didn't choke.

"Why'd he do it, Shandra?" Neeshka whispered, pointing to the bruises around Cari's neck, "I know he's an ass, but… I dunno, I thought she could handle him."

"I don't know. I always thought she'd get herself into trouble if she kept fooling around with that bastard," Shandra sighed, draining the bowl, "But would she listen to reason? No, she wouldn't, and now look what happened."

"I just don't get it," Neeshka said softly as they covered Cari up with a blanket, "She defended him. She treated him well. I'd have kicked his scruffy behind into the gutter, but Cari didn't. What does she see in him?"

"I heard her talking to Casavir once," Shandra mumbled, "She said something about how she understood him, and something about being more like him than anyone knew. I don't know what to make of it, Neesh."

"I don't either. I just want to get her back to Neverwinter, where she'll be safe."

ooooo

_The night was dark. The moonlight aided my sight. I kept to the shadows. _

_The shadows had been my companions, my friends. My only friends._

_My mark was asleep. A pretty young woman. A shame, really._

_Oh well._

_She woke up. Her eyes were blue. She saw my dagger, and she started to cry. She pleaded with me. She was to be married within the tenday._

"_Men aren't worth it," I spat, sneering, "The good ones are useless anyway. They never come when the bad ones do."_

_She begged. She sobbed. She wanted to live. She wanted to know what she had done._

_I shrugged. _

"_Who knows," I mocked, "I'm just the messenger."_

_I didn't care about her. I just wanted him to love me._

_There was blood. So much blood. No screams, just blood. It stained the carpet and her bed and my skin. I cleaned my dagger on her sheets._

_She stared blankly at the ceiling._

"_Better to die innocent," I whispered, admiring the deep slit in her throat, "Better than to suffer later."_

_I left quickly. I could hear her mother cry out in anguish. I didn't care. I needed to return to the temple. To my bed. To him._

_I needed him to love me._

ooooo

The loud, sharp sound of the morning's reveille woke Casavir from his fitful slumber. Years of military training had taught him to wake up the moment the trumpet sounded. He rubbed his stiff neck as he remembered dozing off in the chair beside Cari's bed. He could hear the soldiers of Fort Locke milling about, preparing for their daily duties.

Cari hadn't moved all night. She continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of the happenings around her. She looked peaceful. Casavir smiled painfully and moved his chair closer.

He gently grasped Cari's hand and she twitched. He chuckled softly.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Cari," he murmured, "But I'm thankful for that twitch. It means you're still here."

He paused for a moment, giving a curt nod to the soldiers passing through the barracks. He waited until they had gone before he spoke again.

"I am sorry this happened to you," he continued, lightly stroking the back of Cari's hand, "You don't deserve to be treated like this. Despite what you may think, you should never be abused. It is unjust, and unfair."

He sighed heavily.

"I know you disagree," he whispered, caressing her cheek, "But there _has_ to be a good person hidden somewhere in you. You were born innocent, but _made_ into what you are. That good person is still in there somewhere. I know she is. That good person deserves more than what you've been through. I hope you believe me."

Cari's hand twitched again, and her fingers curled ever-so-slightly around his. She smiled briefly in her sleep, and Casavir leaned back, content to watch her until the rest of their companions woke up.

ooooo

_He and I sat on the edge of my bed. He stroked my hair and held my hands. His hands were cold. Cold like his temple. Cold like the Spine. _

_Cold like everything._

_He held me close. I was nervous. I was scared. He had apologized for everything. He told me he would make it better. He said he would fix things._

_He said he would protect me._

_He told me how strong I was. He told me I was powerful to endure such torture. He was right. Weaker souls would have given up, but I had fought. I had fought through the pain and the hunger, the thirst and the humiliation. I had died, but was reborn, stronger and colder._

_He told me my strength made me beautiful. He told me he didn't want to leave me. He wanted to be with me._

_I needed that more than I wanted to admit._

_He was suddenly close. Very close. I felt his breath on my skin. His hand was on the back of my neck._

_He kissed me._

_My heart was racing and my skin burned. I loved it. It told me everything. He wanted me; he desired me._

_I craved that like an opiate. He had given me so much. He had sworn to protect me. He cared for me._

_He pulled away, and I threw myself into his arms. _

_I wanted him. I needed him. _

_I found myself on my back, with him looking down at me. I panicked. I was terrified. I wasn't ready. I tried to get away._

_He frowned and held me down. I started to cry. I was frightened. It broke my heart that he saw me the way other men did._

_He seemed confused. He moved away, disappointed. I grabbed for him, and my hand knocked the black pendant hanging from his neck aside._

_I needed to know._

_He smiled at me, and he kissed me again. He told me that it would be all right. He told me that he loved me. _

_He only wanted to show me his love._

_I let him._

ooooo

"What in the hells happened?" Duncan demanded, throwing his rag down on the bar as Casavir entered the Flagon, carrying Cari in his arms, "What happened to my niece?"

"Duncan, allow me a chance to explain-"

"Damn it, Casavir, why is she hurt?" He paused and glanced at her other companions. "And where's Bishop?"

Casavir bowed his head. "I will explain in a moment," he said calmly, "But first, she needs to be in her own bed. Khelgar, would you-?"

"Sure thing, lad."

Casavir carefully lowered Cari into Khelgar's waiting arms, and then watched as the dwarf disappeared around the corner, trying to prevent Cari's slender fingers from dragging on the ground.

Duncan pulled Casavir aside, away from the common room.

"Now," he growled, shaking Casavir's arm, "Tell me what happened."

"I'm not sure," Casavir admitted, "Her father found me and instructed me to get her back to Neverwinter. The marks on her neck and Bishop's absence lead me to believe that this is his doing."

"But_ why? _I have no love for the man, but for him to do this…"

Casavir sighed and shot a furtive glance around them, sizing up their privacy.

"Cari's with child," he whispered, confident that they were alone, "My guess is Bishop didn't react well to the news."

Duncan's face darkened. "If that thrice-damned ranger ever shows his face again, he's a dead man. I swear by-"

"Calm yourself," Casavir soothed, gripping Duncan's shoulder, "Now is not the time for more violence. Come, let's see how she's faring."

ooooo

_He pulled me even closer. I let my hands rest on his powerful chest. I could feel his deep, even breaths. His heart pounded against my fingertips. I drank in his heartbeat. His life was my life._

_The right corner of his mouth turned up slightly as he twisted my hair between his fingers. He took a deep breath as he traced the scars crisscrossing my back._

"_Cari?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Would you do me the honor of being my wife?" _

_I gaped at him. I had hoped. I had dreamed. _

"_I-you-what?"_

"_Will you marry me?"_

"_Yes," I blurted out, eager to be wanted and loved, "Yes, of course."_

_He grinned and kissed me. I was ecstatic. I felt truly happy, for the first time in months._

"_I'm pleased," he growled, pushing me onto my stomach._

"_Whatever you desire," I breathed, gasping as he pulled on my hair._

"_Good," he said, kissing my shoulders, "I'm glad you see it that way. All you need in this world is me. Nobody else, nothing else, just me."_

_I believed him._

_He loved me._

ooooo

"How long until the lass wakes up?" Duncan asked, tucking Cari's covers under her shoulders, "How long has she been asleep?"

"She's been out the whole trip," Casavir murmured, straightening her pillow, "But she should be waking up soon. If she's not up by morning, I'm sure Sand has a spell that will do the trick."

"I hope so," Duncan mumbled, lifting a torch from its bracket, "Because that little boy, Wolf, came in the other day, asking for her. Apparently, that batty old sage in Blacklake has need of her."

"Aldanon?"

Duncan shrugged. "How many other sages are in Blacklake?"

"We'll tell her in the morning. It will be good for her to get into her normal routine again."

Duncan nodded and, after extinguishing all the candles except the one beside her bed, shut the door behind them.

Martin stepped forward out of the deep shadows, knowing that this would be his only chance to snatch her without incident. She needed to be at the temple.

Her_ baby_ needed to be at the temple.

He carefully pulled the blanket away, barely containing a lecherous grin at the sight of her body, poised and clad in silk for his perusal. He hooked one arm under her knees and moved to wrap his other around her back when she stirred. He froze.

_Damn, damn, damn it all, she's not supposed to wake up yet!_

Cari shifted and her eyelids fluttered. She sighed, breathing in the delicious, musky scent of incense on his skin.

"Martin," she whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. Her fingers brushed the amulet hanging around his neck. She smiled as her fingertips felt day-old stubble. "It _is_ you."

Martin's heart raced. He had fully expected her to try to fight, not to greet him as kindly as she had.

She fingered his cold, black pendant before she relaxed and fell back into deep sleep. Martin breathed a sigh of relief, decided she would be warmer with the blanket around her, and scooped her up in his arms, blanket and all.

Clutching her tightly to his chest, he cast a wary look around and slipped out her window, sending a silent prayer to Cyric in hopes that he could remain hidden until he had slipped out of the city.


	24. Deception, Part III

**Author's Note: **Once again, sorry about the wait, guys. Life got in my way, again, but I hope the wait is worth it! As always, I'd like to thank everyone so much for their reviews, I appreciate you taking the time to read and leave me feedback, it really means the world to me. In any case, enjoy this chapter, I tried to make it a good one, to make up for the wait, XD_  
_

* * *

_Cyric's blood, _Martin grumbled to himself as he slipped into the shadow of the Flagon,_ she's heavy._

Looking around cautiously, he set Cari down and quickly rummaged through the pockets of his robes, keeping one wary eye on the guardpost nearby.

_That bastard follower of Mielikki had better have done this right, _he thought angrily as he pulled out a small scroll, _or I'll whip him myself._

_Maybe I'll do it anyway. It's fun to hear the little bastard scream. He's pretty much useless otherwise._

_Just like his pathetic god._

Martin scooped Cari back up in his arms, balancing her carefully as he struggled to read the scroll in the dim moonlight.

_Damn Selûne, she's useless too._

He finally managed to finish the incantation, and he braced himself as he felt as though the ground had been swept out from beneath him. He screwed his eyes shut in an attempt to endure the few seconds of windy irritation.

Suddenly, his feet hit solid ground again, and he barely stopped his knees from buckling. He stood before two enormous, elaborately-carved ebony doors that led into the massive temple looming above him. He took a step back and kicked, hard, slamming the doors back on their hinges. Two acolytes standing nearby jumped, ran forward, and bowed.

"Welcome back, Master-"

"Don't waste my time," Martin snapped, "Just tell me that what I requested is done."

"Absolutely, Master," one acolyte said quickly, "The room is cleaned and dusted."

"And there are fresh silk sheets on the bed, Master," the other mumbled, staring at his feet, "Along with new robes in the armoire. But, why-"

"No questions," Martin growled, "Follow me."

He barreled down a long corridor made of black marble, while the two acolytes ran along behind him. Martin pushed his way into a large, but dimly-lit bedroom, with vaulted ceilings and floor-length windows. He gently lay Cari down on the bed before turning to his priests.

"Is everything prepared?" he asked, extending a hand, "The font? The knife?"

"The font is prepared, Master, and here," one acolyte muttered, placing a sheathed dagger onto Martin's outstretched palm, "But, why-"

"Out," he snarled, pointing to the door, "Now!"

The acolytes bowed and scraped out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Martin turned the dagger over, examining it closely.

_The smith did a good job, _he thought, unsheathing and inspecting the blade, _it looks just like the ranger's. Glad to know this last month's scrying of Cari hasn't been a total waste._

He sheathed the knife again.

_This is a quality forgery. Good. Cari needs to believe me._

Martin took a deep breath and quickly ran over his plan once more. Pocketing the replica of Bishop's skinning knife, he dropped down onto the bed beside Cari and murmured a spell in her ear. Smiling, he sat back and watched as she began to stir.

ooooo

_Oh, Hells… _Cari thought groggily, _what happened?_

_Where am I?_

Feeling as though her skull were stuffed with cloth, she opened one eye and looked around.

_Black walls… black ceiling… black sheets…_

_No… oh, _Hells,_ no!_

Her other eye snapped open and she tried to sit up, but a cold hand stopped her.

"Don't move so quickly," a deep, unwelcome voice said, "You've been through a lot."

Her eyes flitted over to glare at him. She didn't move.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" she asked, propping herself up. "Right?"

"No," Martin frowned, "You're not dead. Why would you think that?"

"Well, you're here," she said sarcastically, "So I _must_ be in the Hells."

"Oh, very _funny,_" he snapped, "Harsh words for your savior."

"Savior? From what?"

_Perfect, _Martin thought triumphantly, enjoying the expression of confusion on her face, _she's oblivious._

_Now, just like I practiced…_

"You mean, you don't remember?" he said, grasping her hand, "The attack?"

"What attack?"

"Oh, Hells, you don't remember…" he trailed off, a convincing look of sorrow on his face, "Do you remember anything?"

She closed her eyes.

"I-I remember my father," she murmured, thinking hard, "I-I, I remember you… you were carrying me…"

"Yes," he said sadly, "I'm sorry, Cari."

Her eyes flew open and terror gripped her heart.

"Why were you carrying me, Martin?" she whispered, narrowing her eyes, "What's going on? Why am I _here?_ Why am I not in Neverwinter? With Duncan and the others?"

Martin bowed his head. Cari's heart pounded painfully against her chest.

"Martin?" She grabbed the collar of his robes and shook. "What's going on?"

"Your uncle's tavern was attacked," Martin lied, "By the githyanki. I'm sorry, but everyone inside was killed."

Cari shook her head in disbelief.

"No, they-they had stopped hunting me-"

"It appears," Martin continued, "That this was a revenge mission. You murdered their leader, Zeeaire, did you not?"

"Yes, but, I… how do you know all this?" she spat, shaking harder, "Answer me!"

"I scryed the Flagon after the attack-"

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me the font, damn you!"

Thankful for his foresight, he led her to a small room, where a font, made of black marble, stood glistening in the candlelight. Cari walked forward and peered into the water.

"Show me," she commanded, "I want to know if it's true."

"As you wish," Martin murmured, waving his hand over the water and conjuring a false image, "But it may upset you…"

She gasped in horror as she looked down and saw the burnt remains of the Flagon. Members of the City Watch milled about, pulling bodies from the wreckage. Her mouth fell open as the image took her inside, to where Duncan lay, staring blankly at nothing, with a sword stuck in his chest.

Martin watched Cari turn pale as death as she saw more: Grobnar's tiny body lying near the fireplace… dead githyanki all around Casavir's mangled corpse… Sand looked amazingly peaceful, as though he were merely sleeping… Shandra's crumpled form lay behind the bar, with her shortsword just out of reach; a fallen githyanki, with arrows embedded in his skull, lay beside her…

Cari clamped her hands over her mouth as she saw Bishop. His body lay near his usual table, face up, with the splintered remains of his bow lying on his stomach. His eyes were closed and a deep slit marred his throat. She felt as though she were going to vomit.

"I found this," Martin said softly, placing the replica of Bishop's skinning knife on the edge of the font, "One of them ambushed me and tried to kill me with it."

In utter shock, Cari picked up the blade. She instantly recognized the intricate design on the sheath and the elaborate carving on the hilt.

"No," she whispered, backing away, staring at the knife in her hand, "No, it-it can't be. Bishop would never willingly part with this…"

Martin knew she believed him. The ruse had worked.

"It is," he said quietly, "I know you hate it when I follow you, but I'm glad I did."

"You saved me," she breathed, shaking her head, "But not the others…"

"It was too late for them, or I would have done something. I barely had time to get _you_."

"Why?" she hissed, breathing hard, "Why did you save me?"

"_Why?_" Martin asked, feigning incredulity, "What, you expected me to let you die?"

"No," she mumbled, "I just want to know why you were following me."

"Because I still _love_ you, Cari," he murmured, knowing what the words meant to her, "That's why. I'm sorry about your friends, but I'm thankful you're all right."

Cari stared at the floor.

_This… this is too much._

_Casavir… Duncan… the others… dead. They're all dead._

_Bishop… he, he came back. He had come back. And now he's dead too._

_If I hadn't killed Zeeaire… none of this would have happened…_

_It's because of me. They're dead because of me! _

_My friends, my comrades… _

_My lover…_

_It's my fault… _

_It's all my fault…_

Cari turned on her heel and tried to leave, but one of the priests grabbed her arm and stopped her. Angry and hysterical, she unsheathed Bishop's skinning knife and plunged it into the man's throat before running out the door, sobbing. Martin chuckled victoriously.

_It appears I've gotten to her, _he thought as he pulled the knife from the fallen acolyte's neck.

_Good. She will break._

_I know she will._

_And she'll be mine, just like before._

ooooo

Later that evening, Martin passed through the common room, humming a tune as he headed for the bath. Smirking, he paused for a moment outside Cari's room, and listened. Her cries and wails were audible, even through her thick door. Martin grinned.

_Perfect,_ he thought, strolling to the bath, _absolutely perfect._

_Perhaps I'll let her stay that way for a few days. _He stepped into the water and dunked his head beneath the surface, letting his long, black hair cascade over his shoulders. _Let it sink in. Let her think it's her fault her friends are dead._

_Let her own thoughts break her…_

Martin leaned back against the edge of the bath and relaxed, savoring the warm water lapping at his stomach.

_And, of course, I'll be there to comfort her. Gods, how I'll enjoy her comforts…_

He closed his eyes and dozed off, letting thoughts of Cari's beautiful body, and what he would do to it, cloud his mind.

ooooo

"Where could she have _gone?_" Duncan asked, panicking, "We left her sleeping here last night! Did she run away? Oh, Hells, Daeghun warned me she might do that-"

"No. She was taken," Casavir said, noticing her knapsack and swords, "She wouldn't have left without her equipment, she knows better."

"But who would have taken her?" Neeshka quipped, tail swishing nervously, "Would Bishop…?"

"This isn't the ranger's work," Elanee murmured, "He knows better than to leave her equipment behind as well."

"Then who _did _take her?" Khelgar roared, brandishing his axe, "I swear, I'll split his gut open-"

"While I appreciate your fervor, Khelgar," Casavir said calmly, "We need to figure out where she _is, _before we administer justice."

"As I see it," Sand drawled, staring out the open window, "Unless she was taken by someone of great physical strength, like, say, _Khelgar,_ who is naturally eliminated as he's standing beside me at the moment, I would assume that _magic_ is involved."

"Brilliant deduction, elf," Qara snapped, leaning back on Cari's dresser, "But it doesn't do us any good, now does it? She's still missing."

Casavir rubbed the back of his neck and wandered back out into the common room, thinking. He gazed at the table where Bishop normally sat, often nursing a bottle of ale or wine. He took a deep breath.

"As much as I hate to say it," he said seriously as the others filed in behind him, "We need someone who can find her. Since scrying didn't work, we'll have to do this the hard way."

"What does that mean?" Duncan asked, furiously pacing back and forth. He stopped suddenly. "You don't mean…?"

Casavir sighed heavily.

"Yes, Duncan, I-"

"But you can't trust the bugger, and nobody knows where he is!"

"I know, Duncan, I know. But right now, we're out of options. He's our best bet."

"Would you two stop talking in riddles?" Qara griped, "You're as bad as our instructors at the Academy."

"I'm surprised you listened," Sand prodded, sensing an opening for a jab, despite the situation, "What, with your head held so high it's practically in the clouds-"

"Hush, you two," Shandra said, "Now, Casavir was about to tell us what to do."

Casavir ran his fingers through his hair. "I know you aren't going to like it, but right now, what we need is an experienced tracker, someone who knows the surrounding areas and can give us the best chance to get her back."

He sighed again.

"We need a ranger!"

ooooo

It was a tenday later. Cari had spent days mourning, and crying, and cursing the gods for taking those she cared about. All she could think about were Martin's words, telling her that her companions were dead, that Bishop was dead.

_I would have forgiven him, _she thought, feeling the tears roll down her face, _I would have. Sure, I'd have tormented him a bit first, but I'd have forgiven him. I wanted him to be part of our baby's life._

_But now… _

_Now he's gone, and I'll never see him again. _

_And it's all my fault._

_I never got to apologize for lying, for hiding the baby from him. Our baby will grow up without its father-_

Cari looked up at the sound of a sharp knock on her door. She quickly dried her eyes on the sleeve of her robes. "Come in."

Martin carefully pushed open the door, slowly walked over, and sat down behind her. She recoiled, but did not move, knowing that she had nowhere to go.

"What is the matter, my rose?" he whispered, stroking her hair, "Why so sad?"

"My friends are dead, Martin," she replied, avoiding his gaze, "It is hard to find joy in life."

"You still have me," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist, "I'll protect you. I'm sorry about your friends, I truly am, but you'll be safe here, I promise you."

Cari shivered. His hands felt like ice, even through the thick velvet of her robes.

"Thank you for saving me," she mumbled, "If it weren't for you… I'd be dead too."

"You're very welcome," he smiled, kissing her cheek, "I still love you, Cari. I didn't want to lose you."

Cari stared at her lap as she felt the tears well in her eyes again. She felt alone, more utterly alone than she had in a very long time.

_I… I don't have anybody. And it's my fault._

_I have my baby, and I have…_

_I have Martin._

_He rescued me. After all the horrible things I've said to him, after I ran out on him… he still came back and rescued me._

_He still loves me._

_But, I… he… he's not Bishop._

Martin's words were what she craved, what she _needed_ to hear, but she couldn't get thoughts of Bishop out of her head. She yearned to be loved… but she wanted Bishop.

_But Bishop's dead. He's not coming back. I-I'll never see him again. _

_I'll never see _any_ of my friends again._

_It's my fault…_

Martin waited for her. He knew she was vulnerable, weak, as she needed to be.

He had broken her, again.

"I know you need time to mourn," he said softly, "But I want you to stay here, where you're safe. I will protect you, just as I always have, and as I always will. I need one thing from you, a favor."

Cari looked up at him, meeting his black eyes.

"Yes?" she asked, her heart thudding uncomfortably in her ears, "What is it?"

"Just this," he murmured, playing with a lock of her hair, "Marry me."

She stared at him. She expected to feel some emotion, hatred, or joy, or _something_, but she felt nothing. She felt indifferent, dead as she watched him rummage in the pockets of his robes.

_No, I-I won't, I can't. I ran away from him for a reason._

_I can't run this time; I don't want to hurt my baby. I need to think about my baby too… but I can't marry him…_

_But what about the chains? Would you get put in the chains again if you refuse him?_

_I don't know. I don't know what to do._

She flinched as she felt him brush her hair over one shoulder. He held up a beautiful necklace: shining silver, adorned with dark emeralds and black sapphires.

"For you," he whispered, gently placing it around her neck, "As a token of my love."

Cari reached up and gingerly brushed her fingers over the gemstones. It felt tight around her neck, more like a collar than a piece of jewelry.

_I-I'm trapped. Nobody knows where I am, nobody will be able to find me. _

_It's either this, or the chains._

_And I won't let my baby die because of _me_. I won't have another I care about die by my hand._

_I have no other choice._

_I-I give up._

Lowering her eyes, Cari swallowed, knowing she was forfeiting her freedom in exchange for the safety of her baby. Martin knew he had won.

_At least I'll be with a man who loves me, _she thought sadly, remembering her dreams, _at least he'll protect me._

"I will," she whispered, finally submitting, "I'll marry you. Whatever you want from me, you shall have."

Smiling, he pulled away, scooped her up in his arms, and dropped her onto her bed. Cari felt numb, separated from her body as Martin tore off her robes and threw them to the floor, where they were soon joined by his. He pushed her legs apart and knelt between them, letting his eyes drift over her body and fixate on the necklace that glittered brilliantly against her pale skin.

He would claim her.

He would _own _her.

Cari tried to react, but she felt no pleasure from his freezing touch, only an aching loneliness. She let her mind wander, to thoughts of her friends, and Bishop, those she knew she would never see again. Resigning herself to her sadness, she closed her eyes and choked back tears as Martin took her.


	25. The Hunt Begins

**Author's Note: **Once again, sorry for the long time between updates! This chapter gave me a lot of hassle, and I'm not all that happy with it, but I hope it was worth it. I'll try to update faster! I hope you enjoy this one, there's a lot of technical aspects in this chapter, and some humor, so... enjoy! Thank you all so much for the reviews, I really do appreciate them. I wanted to thank you all even _more _this time, since I now have passed the 100 review mark, XD. So, thank you all, so much, for reading and reviewing my story, your opinions and your feedback have been a godsend, and I just wanted to make sure you all knew how much I appreciate it!

So... happy reading!

Edit: I'm sorry, all, apparently my formatting doesn't work anymore, and I didn't even realize it... I hate it when updates and I don't know what it breaks, :P

* * *

"Well," Duncan said irritably, holding his head in his hands, "I guess we're out of options."

Casavir groaned and leaned back in his chair. He and Cari's other companions had spent the previous tenday scouring Neverwinter for a competent tracker who could locate her. The few that they found had arrived at the same conclusion: whoever had taken her had teleported from outside her window.

_And not knowing Cari's past, _Casavir had thought sadly, _I have no idea where to begin._

_Which is why we need Bishop, perhaps he knows _something.

He ran his fingers through his graying hair. He and Duncan now sat at a table in the back of the Flagon, the dying candle between them indicative of their respective moods.

"I know, Duncan," he said softly, "But we need to find Bishop. His ability to track her aside; there's a good chance he'll know something that we just _don't_."

"And if he _can_ track her?" Duncan growled, "How do we know that he won't hurt her again? I have to think about her safety, Casavir, her safety and the baby's-"

"If he _can_ find her," Casavir said calmly, "He will not go alone. Besides, perhaps this could be a chance for him to atone, to show that he regrets hurting her. I would be willing to forgive him if he's able to get her back safely."

"_You_ may, Casavir," Duncan snarled, "But I _surely_ won't forgive the bastard-"

"I said _forgive,_ Duncan, not _forget_ what he's done. Everyone deserves the chance to atone, even Bishop."

Duncan sighed, recognizing defeat.

"The longer we wait, the colder the trail gets. So, how do we reach the smelly bastard?"

Casavir failed to suppress a chuckle.

"Sand has an idea. He knows a spell that'll allow us to contact Bishop and give him a message."

Duncan snorted.

"As much as I hate trusting Sand… what spell is this?"

"Perhaps," Casavir smiled, pointing at Sand and waving him over, "I'll let Sand explain."

ooooo

Later that night, deep in the Mere, Bishop lay in fitful sleep next to a dying campfire, tossing and turning beneath his thin blanket. The icy chill of night in the Mere ate at his skin, despite Karnwyr curled up beside him, trying to keep him warm. Sleep had eluded him for many nights as thoughts of Cari tormented him. He hated those thoughts. Thoughts of her eyes, chillingly blank, staring up at him. Thoughts of the warm softness of her body pressed up close to him. Thoughts of the red welts circling her neck. Thoughts of her kisses, her touch, her comforts and pleasures.

He hated them, but what he hated _most_ was that he kept thinking about their baby.

He didn't _want_ to think about it, but more often than he would have liked to he caught himself dreaming about the baby. His mind occasionally slipped to thoughts of raising a child, about teaching his child what he knew about the forest: how to track, how to hunt, how to survive.

He hated and despised that small part of him, hidden deep within the caverns of his heart that actually _liked_ those dreams.

Now, though, his mind was taunting him with yet another passionate, sensual dream, a dream that always left him lonely and frustrated upon awakening.

_Cari stands alone in the Flagon's bath. The dim torchlight paints her skin a deep orange. I can't help but stare at her._

_She's so alluring, so tempting, so beautiful. Her hair clings to her body, hugging her shoulders, her breasts, her waist. She gives me that wicked smile that I adore and beckons me closer._

_So I join her. Her eyes shine brightly in the darkness as I wrap my arms around her. Her skin is soft and warm. I let my chin rest on the top of her head as I savor the sensation of her skin touching mine. _

_She can't know, but the scent of her hair entices me. The taste of her lips arouses me. _

_The gentle scrape of the hair on my chest brushing against her breasts drives me _wild.

_Her back presses against the edge of the bath as I lean into her, the need to have her overwhelming everything else. She cups my face in her hands, pulls me in, and gently nibbles on my earlobe. I hear her laugh as I shiver in her arms. I feel her warm breath on my flesh as she whispers something in my ear._

"_My," she says, "Quite an active imagination you have."_

_I pull away, startled and unsettled. Cari sounds like Sand. Strangely, the walls of the Flagon melt away into darkness. Cari fades from my arms and I grasp for her, wanting her more than I would like to admit. Soon, I am standing in the middle of a dark, empty, never-ending space. _

_And I'm completely naked._

_I quickly cover myself, protecting myself as Sand's ethereal form materializes in front of me. It's not like I'm ashamed or anything. I just want to keep the parts of me I value safe. He arches an eyebrow at me and chuckles._

"_It's a shame your subconscious cannot conjure up a pair of trousers," he drawls, enjoying my discomfort more than he should. I glower at him, and he sighs, looking weary._

"_While I'd love to stand here all night and make jokes at your expense," he says softly, "I am afraid I have other, more pressing matters I must relate, and this being the only way to reach you… you need to pay attention and listen closely."_

_The room grows colder as Sand explains Cari's disappearance. Despite everything, I feel a gnawing bit of terror at the thought of her having left so abruptly. She knows better than to leave without her gear. She's smarter than that. _

_I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. Sand holds up a long finger._

"_You can't talk. So either nod your head for yes or shake your head for no, understood?"_

_I sneer at his directions, but I nod anyway._

"_Now," he continues, "We have reason to believe that she was taken. Judging by her current… state, as it were, it is imperative that she be back within Neverwinter's walls as soon as possible, so that both she and your child will be safe."_

_The mention of my child makes me shiver, but I nod. I'm just thankful that he can't see those damned thoughts of mine._

"_So," he says seriously, "Is there anything you might know about her? Anything that can help us find her? If you don't know anything, perhaps you can help us track her. You are proficient at it, provided we hide any ale or mead."_

_I purse my lips. Sand's eyes narrow._

"_With this, we also offer you a chance to atone for hurting her. While I am aware of what you did to her, I also believe that if you help us find her, we are willing to… forgive and forget, as it were. Because I am sure that you are not enjoying sleeping alone in the woods, are you?"_

_I do my best to scowl at him. He chuckles._

"_I thought not. If you are willing to aid us in our search, return to Neverwinter. I promise not to let Duncan skin you. If not, well, I hope that Cari's all right where she is. Because we're out of ideas over here, and seeing as how she seems entwined with the fates of us all? We need her back. So, are you wiling to help us? I know you miss her, it's been dreadful trying to find you when you're asleep."_

_As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. But I hate it. I hate that I miss sleeping beside her. I hate that I miss her warmth and the comfort she brings me. I hate that I miss her passion and her fire. _

_She's one of the few women who can keep up with me, who can challenge me, who can handle everything I can give her. She's one of the few who can leave me breathless and wanting more._

_I miss her._

_I hate that he's right. I hate that I miss her._

_But I miss her. I really do. _

_What's wrong with me? What has she done to me? She's ensnared me, and a very, very strange part of me enjoys it._

_What in the _Hells_ is wrong with me?_

_Sand shakes his head._

"_While I'm not sure I want to know what is running through your alcohol-drenched little mind, I need an answer. I hope I haven't wasted valuable gold and time. Are you willing to come back and help us?"_

_I hesitate for a brief moment, but then I nod._

_I'll get her back._

_I want her back._

"_Good." Sand turns on his heel and walks away from me, fading into nothingness as he does so. "Oh, and you can wake up now."_

With a startled yelp, Bishop shot upright, bleary-eyed and slightly blinded by the early morning light. Karnwyr jumped up, alarmed.

_What wrong with Bish? Bish have another sleep-scare?_

_No, just… a dream._

_What dream?_

Bishop scrambled to his feet and began to tear down his makeshift camp.

_Where we go, Bish? _Karnwyr asked, confused, raising his furry eyebrows as Bishop rolled up his bedroll. _We go back to mate and den?_

_We go back to Neverwinter, my friend._

_And mate? And den?_

_Maybe,_ Bishop thought, slinging his knapsack over his back and heading north, with Karnwyr trotting along beside him, _I hope so._

ooooo

"Well," Duncan snapped, wrinkling his nose in disgust at Bishop, "Can you tell us anything?"

Not even a tenday later, Bishop knelt on the ground behind the Flagon, examining the disturbed earth beneath Cari's window. Duncan and Casavir stood nearby, looking anxious.

"I can tell you this," Bishop drawled, "Anyone _you_ hired must have been a dolt. See these footprints?" He pointed to soft depressions in the dirt. "See how widely they're spaced? They belong to a tall, broad-shouldered man. And see these lines?" He pointed to some strange markings encircling the footprints. "The man was wearing robes."

"And?" Casavir asked eagerly, "Does this help us?"

"Perhaps," Bishop said sourly, "But Cari's got a lot of enemies, lots of enemies that are tall, broad-shouldered, and wear robes. He teleported, I can't tell you much else."

"What a load of help you've been," Duncan snarled, storming off, "What a waste of time."

Bishop smirked as Duncan stomped back into the Flagon.

"Well, now that I don't have Uncle Drunkie stinking up the place," he grinned, "Perhaps I can pick up a scent."

He gracefully jumped through her open window, easily landing on his feet. Casavir eyed the window warily, as if contemplating a jump himself, but then thought better of it, instead choosing to use the door.

Chuckling softly, Bishop turned his attentions back to Cari's room. He noticed her missing blanket, and her swords still leaning up against her bedside table, where she always kept them. Smiling slightly, he brushed his fingers over her sheets, hardly believing that he'd shared her bed for as long as he had.

_It's been months. I usually just bed them once. _

_And now she's got me missing her…_

_Hells._

Her dressing gown lay draped over its usual chair. He picked it up, letting the silk flow between his fingers before bringing it to his lips and breathing in her warm, comforting smell, the scent he'd smell whenever he kissed her neck, or whenever he'd bury his face in her hair.

_I miss her scent._

Bishop closed his eyes, holding her dressing gown tight against his chest and letting the smell of vanilla and cinnamon fill his senses. His eyes snapped open as Casavir appeared in her doorway, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"You really miss her," he said softly, "Don't you?"

Bishop quickly threw her dressing gown back onto the chair and turned away.

_Damned paladin, catching me in a moment of weakness. _

_I _won't_ let that happen again.  
_

"That's none of your gods-damned business, paladin," he snapped angrily, heading back over to her window, "So leave me be."

Casavir narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Bishop leaned forward on the windowsill, and then he suddenly frowned, breathing deeply. He noticed a small piece of fabric, caught on a jagged part of the wood. Prying it loose, he examined it closely, and he noticed a very faint, but familiar odor.

"Incense," he murmured, "It's… incense. I-I know that scent." His face suddenly darkened. "It's-it's that damned cleric! Damn it!" He swore again and aimed a well-placed kick at her wall.

"_I knew it!_" he raged, "_I knew the bastard would try something, I knew it! It was only a matter of time! That sneaky bastard, waiting until my back was turned! The coward! He didn't have the stomach for a fight, so he stole her-"_

Casavir grabbed his shoulders and pushed him up against the wall.

"Who?" he asked, shaking Bishop slightly, "Who are you talking about?"

"_Martin,_" Bishop spat angrily, "One of Cyric's clerics."

Casavir blinked.

"Cyric? The Mad God? What would a follower of Cyric want with Cari?"

"They were _lovers, _idiot"

"Why-why would she be involved with a follower of Cyric? Cyric is an evil god."

Bishop raised an eyebrow and sneered.

"You really are blind, aren't you? It's not just your god. It's not my place to say anything about it. Talk to her."

Casavir glared at him.

"So, a cleric of Cyric took her. Any idea where to go next? Cyric has numerous temples, and they're hard to find."

Bishop rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, to teleport, the temple has to be within a certain number of miles, right?" Casavir nodded. "There-there was this trail I followed, a long time ago. I was tracking one of Cyric's followers – I could tell by the robes – but I lost it somewhere just south of the Spine. I could try to pick up the trail again. It makes sense to start there. It's our only lead. I don't fancy running all over the place looking for temples, so I'd rather start where I knew there was one."

Casavir sighed and set his jaw. "You remember where you lost the trail?" Bishop nodded. "Then let's get Sand. See if he can't find a way to get us there."

"Us?" Bishop asked, incredulous, "I don't need you, paladin, I can do this myself."

"Part of this agreement," Casavir said quietly, "Is that I accompany you, for Cari's safety and Duncan's sake. Not only that, I think it would be prudent to bring a small force anyway, since I'm not sure what you'd be up against."

"You've got a point," he admitted, albeit grudgingly, "It's just you, me, and Sand, got it? I don't want to bring the whiney farmgirl, or the crazy gnome, or the drunken dwarf-"

"Understood," Casavir said firmly, "Then let us get going, all right?"

ooooo

"So, Salyndra," Casavir said quietly, pleading slightly with the gray-haired half-elf, "Will you help us? Please?"

Salyndra's kind eyes narrowed slightly.

"So, let me get this straight," she said softly, her voice somewhat raspy from age, "You plan on teleporting into an area _he _hasn't seen in years," she nodded at Bishop, who scowled, "So you can find one of Cyric's temples and rescue a pregnant woman."

Sand nodded.

"Insane," he drawled, "But necessary."

"Insane is an understatement," she snapped, rubbing her temples, "Suicidal, even."

"We specialize in suicidal," Sand smirked. Salyndra shook her head.

"Cyric is an evil god, and if she's in one of his temples… it isn't good to have a baby there. I wouldn't put it past them to just kill the baby once it's born. And since I despise Cyric and everything he stands for... I'll happily help."

"You'll make us a scroll then?" Casavir said eagerly.

"Absolutely," she said kindly, "I'll have the scroll for you by the time the day is out. All you have to do is to be in physical contact with the caster, and you'll go where he goes. I wish you luck. Just be careful around Cyric's minions. They're a deceitful, untrustworthy lot who'll probably kill you on sight. Be on your guard."

The men nodded as Salyndra ushered them out.

"Unless you want to sit here and watch me write, I suggest you go pack for your journey. Come back in a bit, and I'll have that scroll for you." She paused, smiling. "I really do wish you luck. I hope the girl's all right, and I hope the baby's all right too. I'll see you in a little while."

Later that afternoon, Bishop stood in front of the Flagon with Casavir, Sand, and Karnwyr, eyeing the scroll in his hand with some apprehension.

_I hate reading scrolls. I never know if they're going to backfire._

_I hope this isn't one of those times…_

"Are we ready?" Casavir asked, adjusting the buckle on his knapsack, "The longer we wait-"

"We're ready," Bishop said curtly, "Get over here. I'm going to start reading."

Casavir nodded and grasped Bishop's shoulder as Sand grabbed Bishop's elbow, with Karnwyr pressing his furry body against Bishop's leg. Duncan glared at them from the doorway of the Flagon.

"Good luck," he said flatly, "And remember: if you fail, it's _your_ head I'm hangin' on my wall next, you hear?"

"Lovely," Bishop drawled, "I won't fail. I _don't _fail." Duncan rolled his eyes, and Bishop shook his head, turning away.

"All right, let's do this."

He slowly mumbled the incantation on the scroll, focusing on the old trail he had lost long ago. Suddenly, his stomach lurched, and his feet were swept away from the ground, taking Casavir, Sand, and Karnwyr with him. Duncan watched as they vanished, and he stared upward into the sky, hoping that the uneasiness in the pit of his belly would subside once they were back in Neverwinter.


	26. Discoveries and Hope

**Author's note: **This chapter has taken longer than I seriously want to admit. I really am sorry that it has taken nearly two months to update, but I've been fighting with it, as well as wrestling with real-life from time to time. Now, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, so... :P Anyway, I thank you all for bearing with me, and tolerating my long period between updates. They should come more regularly now, I hope... :)

And the battle cry is canon, so... everyone who reads this has their Lore increased by 1! :D

Enjoy!

* * *

Bishop's hand fell to his bloodied sword as he examined the enormous black doors in front of him.

"All right," he said quietly, "I'm going in and finding her-"

"Alone?" Casavir growled, "I think not. We're coming too." He pointed at Sand, then himself.

"If I want to alert the whole damn temple of our presence, paladin, I'll ask you to come along. You sneak about as well as a drunken dire boar…"

It had been three days since they had teleported out of Neverwinter, and a day since they had stumbled upon the remains of an ambushed merchant caravan. Some of the fallen had borne Cyric's insignia as tattoos under their clothes. For a brief moment, a moment of dread and terror, a moment he later berated himself for, Bishop had feared that Cari had been killed as well.

They had found bodies, but fortunately Cari had not been among them.

It had been when they had been searching for survivors that they heard cries of, "Death to weaklings!" as a small group of Black Ravens, a sect of the Uthgardt barbarians, most of them on foot, two circling above them on giant ravens, had surrounded them and attacked.

The battle had not last long. After a lucky shot from Bishop had downed one of the gigantic birds and its rider, and a successful spell from Sand had also felled a pair, the remaining Ravens had backed off. Not wanting to lose more members of their dwindling tribe, or another of their precious birds, the Black Ravens had offered a deal: they knew of a Cyricist temple, and would lead them there. Such was their hatred for the foreign priest and those with the stink of civilization upon them that he traded with.

Now, Bishop, along with Karnwyr, Sand, and Casavir, stood before two massive, elaborately-carved doors, set into the face of the large hill looming before them. They had already silenced the two guards stationed outside, and now…

And now, they were arguing.

Casavir scowled.

"I gave Duncan my word that I would watch you, and keep her safe-"

"You want to keep her safe?" Bishop snarled back, "Stay out here with Sand and pick off any stragglers. By going in there, you just risk her more harm, you idiot paladin!"

"How do I know you won't try to hurt her again?"

"Do you honestly _think_ that I would come all this way with you and the elf, just so I could hurt her again?"

"I-"

"Enough of this," Sand snapped angrily, "You are wasting valuable time out here arguing. Since I really have no desire to die on this little mission of ours, I suggest we take the measures most likely to lead to our, and her, survival. As much as it pains me to say this, I have to agree with the ranger."

Bishop stared at him.

"Thanks, Sand. I think."

Sand waved his hand dismissively as Casavir folded his arms over his chest, frowning.

"I still don't like this," he grumbled, "But if you both think it's wise..."

"Thank you," Bishop smirked, throwing his knapsack at Casavir's chest, "I'll be back soon. Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

Casavir sighed as Bishop stepped over the bodies of the two guards, slowly pushed open the doors to the temple, and slipped inside.

"I hope you're right, Sand."

"I usually am, but about what, my good paladin?"

"About sending him in there alone, about trusting him."

Sand eyed the temple doors warily.

"I have a feeling that if he were to try to hurt her in there, _our_ anger would be the least of his worries."

"What do you mean?"

"She obviously means a great deal to someone in that temple. Why else would they have gone to such lengths to bring her here?"

"You mean like we are, in trying to get her back?"

Sand chuckled.

"I suppose. Why are you so worried? I have confidence in the ranger's abilities, as much as it distresses me to say so."

Casavir shook his head.

"I'm just worried about her, Sand."

Sand arched an elegant eyebrow.

"Why? Don't tell me that you're developing feelings for our illustrious leader?" he mused, chuckling as Casavir visibly paled.

"No," Casavir said quickly, shaking his head, "No, I'm not." When Sand did not look convinced, Casavir sighed and turned away.

_Not like that, anyway… _he thought, sitting down on the cold, hard earth. _I mean, I do care about her, or I wouldn't be here._

_But who is it I care about? _

He groaned and wearily rubbed his face.

_I'll just… talk to her. See if-if what Bishop says is the truth._

_And then?_

_And then… I don't know what I'll do._

--

For what felt like the thousandth night in a row, Cari could not sleep. She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, but her attempts were futile. Something would always wake her. Sometimes, it would be a long-drawn out scream from the torture chambers. Sometimes, it would be Martin, kissing and caressing her, needing her to sate his desires.

More often, though, it would be her dreams.

No matter how hard she tried not to, she kept dreaming of Bishop. She dreamed of his blazing touch, his powerful body, the sensation of his skin against hers… his brilliant, but all-too-rare smile…

And his eyes. His eyes, intense and piercing, beautiful pools of liquid amber that taunted her, tormented her, more nights than she wanted to think about.

Cari stared at the ceiling, seeing little more than darkness. Martin slept soundly beside her, either oblivious to her increasing insomnia, or more likely, as she noted to herself, simply uncaring.

_He only wants me here so he can use me. _She fingered the necklace he had given her, the necklace she was forbidden to remove. _He wants me here so he can control me. I hate him. I hate his cold eyes and his cold fingers and his cold body…_

_I just wish that I could stop dreaming of Bishop. Bishop's dead. He's gone._

_I want his eyes to stop haunting me._

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and then sat up, keeping one hand on her ever-growing belly. It protruded quite obviously now, so much so that it pulled at her tunics and robes, stretching them out. Smiling slightly, she gently rubbed her stomach, thinking about the strange, yet powerful connection she felt to the life growing inside her. It gave her strength.

_I just need some fresh air. It always helped me sleep back in West Harbor._

Quietly slipping into her robes, she had nearly made it to the door when the candle on Martin's bedside table lit up. Groaning to herself, she turned around as Martin propped himself up on his elbows, his hair a tangled mass of curls from sleeping.

"Where are you going?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "It's the middle of the night. Come back to bed."

"I need some fresh air," she said softly, crossing her arms over her chest, "I can't sleep."

"There's a window," he chuckled, pointing, "Use that. Then come back."

"I want to go outside, Martin."

He shook his head. "Come back to bed. Now."

"Please, Martin, I'll be back in a short while. Surely you can be without me for that long. Or are you scared that your pillow will stab you?"

He scowled and then sighed, and stretched back out onto the bed, as with a whispered word, he extinguished his candle.

"Very well. I'll come looking for you if you're not back in half a candle. Can't have you wandering off in your condition."

"I'm _pregnant_, Martin, not an _invalid. _Learn the difference." Cari shoved the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

_Like there's anywhere for me _to_ go, _she grumbled to herself, blinking slightly in the torchlight. She rubbed her arms as the well-known chill settled into her skin. _This place is my prison. My icy, drafty prison-_

She turned a corner, heading for the doors that led outside, when a hand closed over her mouth and a hooded man pinned her up against the wall. She tried to see the man's face, but it was hidden in shadow. A cold blade pressed against her throat.

"Where's Carianna?" he snarled, "I'm going to let go of your mouth, but if you scream, I'll slit your throat. Understood?"

His voice was familiar. Her pulse started to race, a faint glimmer of hope burning in the depths of her heart. She nodded mutely and felt the pressure on her mouth decrease slightly.

"Who are you?" she asked warily, dropping her hands to protect her bulging belly, "I might lead you to her if you told me what you're doing here. How did you get in here? Why-?"

"Quiet!" the man hissed, "I'll ask the questions, wench! Let's just say I'm here to get her out of here. For your continued survival, I hope you agree with that."

She blinked.

_How is this happening? _

_Someone's here for me?_

_Someone's here to rescue me?_

_Oh, Hells, this is my chance..._

"I am Cari, but I'm not going anywhere until I know who in the Hells you think you are!" she whispered, fighting against the man's grip on her, "Now let me go!"

The man hesitated, then pulled away, and released his hold on her. He sheathed his knife hastily, as if it was suddenly hot to the touch.

"Cari, it's _me,_" he growled, "Bishop."

She frowned.

"You can't be him. Bishop's dead. Casavir's dead, Duncan's dead, they're all dead."

He grasped her shoulders again and shook her gently.

"No, they're not. Casavir and Sand are outside waiting for us, and your drunken uncle is still back in Neverwinter with the others!"

He pulled back his hood, bathing his face in torchlight. Cari gasped and clamped her hands over her mouth.

"No…" she moaned shakily, shocked, "No, you-it can't be. You're dead. I saw it." She fought violently against his grip. "Why do you torment me? I see him enough in my dreams, and now this?"

Bishop looked around warily. The longer they lingered, the greater the chance they would be discovered.

"Cari, it's _me!_ We don't have _time _for this! What can I say that will make you come with me?"

She paused for a brief moment, and then set her jaw.

"What did we do the night of my Rite of Tyr, _Bishop?_" she sneered, "Tell me, if you can, and I'll leave with you."

"I bedded you," he said quickly, listening intently for the sound of footsteps, "We desecrated the place. Then you told me about Lorne, and we fought, and then…" He cleared his throat. "That good enough for you?"

She gaped at him.

_Oh..._

_Oh, Hells..._

_Nobody could know that, nobody but him!_

_Bishop… He's alive!_

_What a gods-damned _fool _I am! He's alive!_

"Oh… gods…" she whispered, "It-it's you…" She reached up to gently touch his face, as though she could not believe that he was real. A small smile curled her lips as she saw herself reflected in his eyes, eyes that she thought she would never see again. "It… it _is _you!"

Suddenly, she pulled him in and kissed him hungrily, passionately, scarcely believing that he was alive, that he was with her again. Startled for a moment, he hesitantly placed his hands on her waist, and then slid his arms around her. He held her tightly against him as he returned her fire, her fervor, his embrace possessive, nearly crushing, wanting her touch more than he wanted to admit.

Breathing hard, he pulled away, letting his forehead rest against hers as she gently stroked his cheeks.

"I thought you were dead," she breathed, smiling happily, drinking in the feel of his skin through her fingertips, "You, and the others-"

"Well, we're not," he said softly, smiling despite himself, "But if we don't leave now, we might be. Who told you that anyway?"

Her face suddenly darkened.

"Martin," she snarled, her lip curling, "Martin told me! He showed me... he showed me all these horrible things…" Bishop had to react quickly as she yanked his skinning knife, moments before at her own throat, from his bandolier. She tried to run down the dark corridor she had emerged from earlier, but yelped as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"While I would like nothing more than to slit that fucking bastard's throat," Bishop growled, "I'd rather not be caught and face this whole temple."

For a brief moment, Cari looked as though she were going to pull away and dash off down the hallway anyway, but instead, she sighed, a look of utter contempt still marring her features.

"You're right," she grumbled, handing him back his skinning knife, "The guards will be making their rounds soon."

"And if they find the bodies I left…" Bishop muttered, wincing.

"Bodies?" Cari asked, arching an eyebrow, "Come on!"

Grabbing his hand, she rushed off towards the elaborately-carved doors, keeping a keen eye out for any of Martin's minions. Moments later, she pushed through the doors and stepped out into the cool night air, where they were greeted by Casavir.

"Good, you're out," he said quickly, flashing Cari a bright smile, "There have been no problems out here. Nice and quiet." His smile widened, and suddenly, he pulled Cari into an embrace.

"It's good to see you safe," he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head and deliberately ignoring the furious look Bishop was giving him, "I was worried about you, and the baby. I-" He hesitated as Bishop's words came rushing back to him, leaving him with a feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. "We should talk, Cari. When we are safe, that is."

Cari awkwardly patted Casavir on the back.

"Thanks, Cas," she said quietly, chuckling softly, "And sure, we'll talk later."

Clearing his throat, Casavir pulled away, still doing his best to overlook Bishop's icy glare.

"You are correct," he said stiffly, sighing heavily, "We must get to safety."

"There's a campsite further south," Bishop growled, grabbing Cari's hand and pulling her against him, "It would be a safe place to teleport from."

He remembered all too well what the Oghmite, Salyndra, had said as she had given him the second scroll.

'_Things are sure to get out of hand when you wish to return, child.'_

_I guess you were right, old woman._

_Read it far enough away from here that I can do it calmly._

_And not bring anybody back I don't want to._

_Like you, paladin, _he sneered to himself, _I don't know who you think you are, but she's mine._

Cari nodded in agreement. The campsite sounded safe enough.

"Then come on," Bishop said firmly, breaking into a fast walk as Cari jogged along beside him, "We need to go."

Keeping an eye out for any of Martin's minions, they disappeared into the forest, and for the first time in what felt like ages, hope burned brightly in Cari's heart, hope that she would finally be free from Martin's freezing clutches.


	27. Homecoming

**Author's Note: **ZOMG, an update! XD Anyway, yes, I finally finished this chapter, and it's a bit on the long side, but I think it reads quickly. This one is rated high T to M for language and sexuality towards the end, so it's just a warning, in case anyone is uncomfortable reading it. Now, I will say that my usual editor was unable to aid me with this one, so I do hope it's not too different than my other chapters. A special thanks to my wonderful boyfriend, Zaxares, for editing this one for me, I appreciate it more than words can say, XD.

In any case, I do hope that you enjoy the chapter, and I thank you so much for the reviews, all of you, they truly mean a lot to me. The feedback really helps me improve, and it encourages me, so I thank you, all of you. Even if I didn't get a chance to, or couldn't reply to the reviews left, I did want to thank you all, so... Thank you!

And a special note to Churr: I owe you cookies for being such an astute reader, and for picking up on my plot idea for this chapter. XD I have to commend you, because I thought that I'd been ever-so-clever, but you called it! So... congratulations!

* * *

"How much further?" Cari asked, panting, struggling to keep up with Bishop's long strides, "Please tell me we're close…"

"Not much," Bishop replied, slowing his pace slightly, "We should be there soon."

As they delved further into the woods, keeping a wary eye out for any of Martin's lackeys, Cari noticed that she was losing speed with every step, as though her muscles were too weak to hold her weight. Her breaths grew shorter, more agonizing, and her heart felt as though it were straining to keep the blood pumping through her veins. It wasn't long before her hand slipped from Bishop's grasp.

"Stop," she moaned, falling to her knees and collapsing on the forest floor, "Please…"

Gasping for breath, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, panicking at the feeling of helplessness, of weakness washing over her as she discovered that she could barely move her arms or legs. Bishop turned around, and he felt an unfamiliar pang of fear as he saw her lying on the ground, her chest barely moving, one hand draped protectively over her bulging belly.

"Help," she whispered feebly as he dropped to the ground beside her, "Bishop…"

The other two quickly joined them. Casavir's eyebrows knotted in concern.

"What's going on?" Bishop snapped, gesturing at Cari's prone form, "What's happening?"

"I-I don't know!" Casavir said quickly, examining her closely, looking for wounds, anything at all, "She's not injured, I-"

Cari's head rolled to one side, exposing both the necklace Martin gave her and the skin of her neck. Sand made a noise of disgust as he noticed that her usual pale flesh looked dull and gray, as though it were rotting beneath the surface. He frowned for a moment, lifted the thin necklace, and raised his eyebrows as her skin returned to normal.

"It's the necklace!" he hissed, frantically spinning it around her neck to look for the hook, "I-where's the clasp?"

"It melted into the metal," Bishop growled, slipping his fingers under the necklace, a strange feeling of panic washing over him as Cari's breathing slowed even more and the hand on her stomach fell to her side, "Don't you know a spell to unlock it or something?"

"There has to be a lock to unlock first," Sand snapped in return, "Something that this necklace _lacks. _This is _cursed_ jewelry, I know it. Nothing else does this. It will keep sapping her life the longer it is around her neck."

Bishop set his jaw.

_I have to get this off of her. Or she-she'll die._

_And I have _not _spent these last few days dealing with Casavir, Sand, and her dear Uncle Duncan to have her die on me! _

_I won't let her die!_

_She owes me for all of this!_

_Not to mention you missed her-_

_I-I-shut up!_

Taking the thin chain in his hands, his first instinct was to use his skinning knife to cut it off of her, but the necklace lay too close to her skin, and he risked accidentally cutting her throat if he were careless. Instead, he gingerly wrapped his fingers around the necklace, making sure not to put pressure on Cari's neck. He yanked and strained, but the necklace remained intact. Gritting his teeth, he pulled harder and harder, and as he did so, he noticed that the necklace was growing… sharper, as though defending itself, preventing itself from being taken off. He looked down to find that the jewels had suddenly filed themselves into serrated points, points that now dug into his flesh. He pulled even harder, and he grimaced as the emeralds and black sapphires sliced into his fingers and palms, dripping his blood onto her neck.

After a few more moments, with Bishop's hands aching and searing in pain from the deep wounds, the necklace finally shattered, sending shards of silver and precious gems flying through the air. Almost immediately, the skin of Cari's neck flushed with color, and her breathing became stronger, more regular. Her eyes fluttered open, and she swore.

"Martin," she snarled, "Gods-damned bastard. I-I can't believe he did that to me. And I trusted him! I let him put the damn thing on me…"

"What are you talking about?" Casavir asked kindly, watching her closely as she managed to sit up, "How are you feeling?"

"Like an idiot, thanks," she said wryly, leaning back on her hands, "Martin has these collars he puts on prisoners. If the prisoner escapes, the necklace will drain the strength from him. The farther away from the temple they run, the more strength it drains, until they collapse, unable to move." She shook her head. "And he put one on me. That fucking bastard."

"What happens to the prisoners once they collapse?" Sand asked warily, handing Bishop a healing potion for his bleeding hands, "I am sure that a man like Martin, who went through such trouble to create the things, wouldn't just leave them on the neck of a fallen prisoner."

"No, he doesn't," Cari grunted, taking Bishop's offered elbow and clambering to her feet, keeping one hand on her belly to support their baby, "He knows where they are, and he sends his acolytes – minions, more like it – out to… find…" She suddenly paled. "Oh, Hells, we need to get out of here!"

"Why?" Bishop asked, rubbing his freshly-healed palms, "What's going-"

"He puts enchantments on the collars," Cari interrupted, "Enchantments he can track! We need to get out of here! Are we able to teleport?"

"If Bishop can still read the scroll," Sand replied as Bishop unfurled the rolled-up piece of parchment, "And not lose concentration, and I'm not sure he can do either under _normal_ circumstances-"

"I'll risk it, elf," Bishop growled, narrowing his eyes as he seriously contemplated leaving Sand behind as well, "But the answer is, _yes, _we can teleport from here. Get ready."

He grabbed Cari's arm and pulled her tightly against him as he began to recite the spell. Sand and Casavir stood close and grasped Cari's arm and Bishop's shoulder respectively, and despite all their help, Bishop was seriously contemplating teleporting without them.

_It'd be so easy to leave them behind, it really would…_

_Leave them for the cleric's minions…_

_Sand hasn't been so bad, but Casavir… he needs to remember his place-_

_Tell shiny metal man that Bish pack leader, and him only mate with female? _Karnwyr interjected, raising his fuzzy eyebrows and leaning against Bishop's leg. _Shiny metal man want mate, he find new mate._

_Yes, Karnwyr, that too…_

Bishop had nearly finished reading the scroll.

_All I have to do is push them at the last minute, get them outside the range of the spell…_

_That'll work, that'll take care of everything…_

His fingers twitched. There were only a few more words left to read.

_I'll just get Casavir, Sand-_

He jumped as Cari suddenly grabbed his hand, breaking him from his thoughts, but luckily, not from the last words of the scroll.

"I hate teleporting," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest, "Always makes me nauseous."

Before he could respond, his feet were swept out from beneath him, and he growled in frustration as he noticed that Casavir still had a hold on his shoulder. Her interruption had prevented him from leaving Casavir behind.

_Damn it, Cari!_

A moment later, his feet connected with solid ground, and he instantly recognized the signature scent of Neverwinter and the docks.

_Oh, great, we're back… all of us._

"Ah, wonderful," Sand drawled, wrinkling his nose as Casavir opened the door to the Flagon, "We're home."

"Good," Cari sighed, following Sand, "I can't wait to sleep in my own bed-"

They had barely stepped inside when someone ran up and pulled Cari into a bone-crushing hug, making her stumble slightly on her feet.

"Lass, yer back!" Duncan cried happily, squeezing her tightly, "I missed you! And yer in one piece!"

"I missed you too, Duncan," she said warmly, smiling brightly at him, "And it's thanks to Casavir, Sand, and Bishop that I'm in one piece. Bishop, especially. I owe him my life, uncle."

The lines around Duncan's mouth thinned slightly, but he said nothing about Bishop. "Come, lass, you need some food. And you need to tell me where in the Hells you've _been _this whole time!"

Cari chuckled. "I know, Duncan, I know, but can we please talk in the morning?" she asked quietly, "It's not that I'm not happy to see you, I am. I'm just very tired, and I need some rest."

"Of course, lass," Duncan murmured, nodding, "I understand. Ye get yer strength up. We'll still be here in the morning, and I'm sure your friends will want to see you. As will Aldanon, you can go see him tomorrow too. He's been asking about you."

"Thanks, Duncan." Smiling, Cari gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and then headed towards her room, but as she neared the hallway that led to the Flagon's lodging, she paused and turned around, her heart pounding against her chest as she looked at Bishop, who sat in his usual corner, with Karnwyr curled up beneath his chair.

Her eyes locked on his, and she could see a certain eagerness flickering behind his amber orbs, mixed with an unusual apprehension, as though unsure of what she were going to say to him.

"Well?" she whispered, more nervous than she wanted to be, "Are you coming?"

For a brief moment, she feared he would refuse her offer, but in the next second, he rose from his seat and joined her. She saw Duncan open his mouth to say something, but Casavir stopped him, shaking his head.

"Let them be for now," he murmured, looking just as uncomfortable as her uncle, "It's her choice." Duncan opened his mouth one more time, then sighed and dropped into his chair, nervously fingering a small hole in his apron.

The unease emanating from the common room was nearly palpable as Cari slipped her hand in Bishop's and led him around the corner to her room. She had barely shut her door when Bishop's lips were suddenly on hers, kissing her fiercely, hungrily as he gently pushed her against the wall, pinning her there with his body.

"Now we can finish what you started in that temple," he growled softly, claiming her lips once more as he began to unlace her robes. She eagerly returned his kiss, and she moaned as his lips trailed over her jaw and down her throat, setting her skin on fire.

Halfway down her neck, however, he suddenly stopped, catching the scent of something awful, something unwelcome on her skin. Breathing heavily, he took a hasty step back. "You smell like incense, Cari. You smell like _him_." His eyes narrowed. "He touched you, didn't he?"

Startled and confused, her mouth thinned, unable to conjure a reply quickly enough. Bishop turned away from her.

"He touched you." He shook his head, an uncomfortable dead weight settling in his stomach at the thought of the cleric touching her. The subsequent questions took that weight and twisted it into a knot. Not wanting to know the answer, he swallowed hard, gazing at a particularly large scuff on the floor. "Did he bed you, Cari?"

Cari opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Her silence said more than words ever could.

"You let him bed you?" he hissed, infuriated, both at her for betraying him and at himself for caring, "You let him _fuck_ you?"

"I had no choice," Cari murmured, reaching out to gently touch his arm, "Believe me, if I could-"

"You could have what?" He pulled his arm away, seething, unwanted jealousy flaring inside him. "You would have done it earlier, is that it?"

"No!" Cari pleaded, shaking her head, "Bishop, I wouldn't have. I didn't want to. If I could have avoided it, then-"

"_Then what?" _ He was startled to realize that he was shouting. "You haven't been gone for a month and you already smell like another man. Did he make you forget all about me, Carianna? Did you fall into bed with the first man who looked at you the way I do?"

"You think I bedded him by _choice?_" she growled, her face darkening in indignation and anger, "You think I let that-that _thing _touch me because I enjoyed it?" She was shouting as well, furious tears welling in her eyes. "If you think that, then you're a bigger fool than I thought, Bishop."

"Then _why?" _he said sarcastically, turning around and folding his arms over his chest, "If you didn't enjoy it, why did you let him bed you?"

"Bishop-"

"What reason could you possibly have-?"

"I did it to _save_ myself, you gods-damned _fool!" _she screamed, so loudly she felt as though her throat would tear in two, "I bedded him to save myself, and to save our baby, you idiot!"

"We _rescued_ you, didn't we?"

"I thought you were dead," she explained, swallowing hard in an attempt to prevent herself from crying, "I thought you were all dead. I didn't _know_ that I was going to be rescued. I thought that I was going to be stuck there, Bishop! Stuck there for the rest of my life! A life I didn't want to spend in shackles! I did it to survive, Bishop!"

"But _why_?" Bishop snarled, knowing that she had been trapped, but still unable to control the pain he felt at the knowledge that she had been with Martin, "Why did you need to bed him? You could've run, you could've refused him-"

Cari laughed cruelly, a sound that sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

"You saw the necklace he put on me, Bishop," she whispered, smiling darkly, "I wouldn't have gotten far. And do you know what would have happened to me had I tried to escape? Or if I'd refused him?" She reached around and pointed to her back, gesturing at the thin scars that Bishop had nearly memorized with his fingertips. When she saw the understanding in his eyes, she sighed heavily.

"You want to know the worst part?" she said dryly, throwing her hands up in the air, "After all of it, after not even needing to-to do what I did… The worst part is that he's _terrible_. I gave myself to him in exchange for my safety, and I didn't even enjoy it. How ironic is that?"

After a moment of awkward, painful silence, Bishop reluctantly chuckled, a small part of him secretly pleased to hear her say that. "Come now, Cari," he drawled, "You can't leave it at that. _How _was he terrible?"

Cari smirked, not missing the small hint of humor in his voice. "Martin has no concept of rhythm, Bishop. Not to mention that if he lasts more than half a candle, I consider it a good day."

Before he could stop himself, Bishop started laughing, both at the cleric, and to mask the hesitant feelings of relief in his heart, but soon the laughter died away, leaving a strange feeling of insecurity behind.

"Still…" he said, pursing his lips, "Why did you do it, Cari? Even if it was terrible, you still did it. Why? I know you say you had no choice, but still…"

"I _didn't_ have any choice," she mumbled, shaking her head, "Even if he were decent, I wouldn't have enjoyed it." She swallowed again, and took a deep breath, her heart beating hard against her chest. "It was tolerable, at times-"

Bishop frowned. "Tolerable?" he asked, surprised at her words, "How so?"

Cari smiled softly, avoiding his gaze. "It was tolerable at _times_," she admitted, "But only when… When I was thinking about _you_." He arched an eyebrow, but before he could respond, she continued. "But it still wasn't the same. Nowhere close." Her lower lip began to tremble at the memories, at the dark, painful thoughts that had consumed her. "And once it was over, I… I…"

His eyes widened as she suddenly strode over, wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him against her. When he did not move away, she gently laid her head on his chest.

"I missed you," she confessed, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart, "I missed you. Hells take me, Bishop, but I missed you, damn it! And thinking of you only made me miss you more. I missed your strong body and your passion and your fire and-"

A deep kiss cut short her uncontrollable babbling.

"I get it, all right?" he growled quietly, sliding his arms around her shoulders, "I get it."

They stood in silence for a long while, holding each other, each silently enjoying the embrace of the other, each unsure of what to say next. After what felt like hours, Cari finally spoke.

"So…" she whispered, looking up at him, her eyes betraying both her uncertainty and her need for him, "What happens now?"

_Enough of the tempting dreams, _she thought, _enough of the fantasies. I want him in the flesh._

_If he'll still have me…_

"What do you _want _to happen?" Bishop breathed in return, the touch of her body turning his blood to fire. Desire surged through him as he slowly slid his hands down her sides and over her hips, drinking in the feel of her warm skin through soft velvet.

_I should be angry that she bedded the cleric._

_She had no choice. You know he'd have tortured her and killed her if she hadn't._

_I know that, I still… _He sighed inwardly. _I should be angry at her. I should be furious with her. But I'm not, I-I want her. I still want her. Hells, I need her. I haven't had her in far too long…_

_Then tell her. Tell her you want her._

_I-I… no. I can't. I want to hear her say it first. I'm not going to whimper for her like some lovesick puppy. I've done that too much today._

"What do you want from me?" he whispered, leaning in, intending to kiss her, but then stopping a mere breath from her lips, "Say it."

Cari smirked, her confidence finally returning to her. "What I want…" she murmured, lightly brushing her lips against his in a sensual, tempting half-kiss, "What I need…" She lightly ran her hands down his stomach, her heart racing as her fingertips grazed over his powerful muscles, "Is you, Bishop."

A low groan escaped his throat as she slipped her hands under the waistband of his trousers, and his hips instinctively thrust forward as she wrapped her delicate fingers around his manhood.

"Besides…" she purred, stroking him in the way she knew would stir his desires, "For the last few tendays, I've been stuck with a man who wouldn't know how to please a woman if his life depended on it." She gently took his lower lip between her teeth, and she grinned as he moaned into her mouth. "I've thought you dead for these last tendays, Bishop, and I didn't get to have you that one last time. Perhaps you'd like to remind me what real pleasure is like? What being with _you_ is like?" He shivered pleasurably as she gave him another gentle stroke. "And I'll show you just how much I missed you."

With a soft growl, Bishop gently pushed on Cari's shoulders and eased her down on the bed, unable to hold back any longer, nearly tearing her robes in his attempt to remove them. After a few moments of frantic pulling and yanking on various garments, everything lay on the floor, and for the first time in what felt like ages, they felt the sensation of the other's skin.

Doing his best to accommodate Cari's swollen belly, Bishop propped himself up on his hands and settled himself between her legs, using his strong arms to support his weight as he leaned in and kissed her, his heart racing at the thought of finally sating his desire, his need for her.

"My," Cari giggled, biting her lip as her eyes drifted below his waist, "You _have _missed me, haven't you?" She winked, grinning mischievously, but then the grin faded, leaving behind a soft smile. She gazed up at him, her blood rushing in her ears as she reached up to cup his face. "I'm sorry about Martin, Bishop, I really am…" she whispered, "But believe me, I wanted to be with you. I did, I really did."

Bishop smiled wryly, and then silenced her with a hungry, passionate kiss.

"Apologize later," he whispered in reply, pulling the blankets over them, "But for now, you can make it up to me."

--

"M-Master?"

Silently fuming, Martin turned from his marble font to look at the acolyte trembling in the doorway. Cari had vanished. Scrying had proved useless.

_She must have a spellcaster with her, _he thought, disgusted, _she's blocking it now._

_The bitch…_

"Well?" Martin snarled, his eyes shining with an unhinged fury that made the acolyte take a step back, "Where is she?"

The acolyte gulped.

"She-she's gone," he stuttered, visibly frightened, "I-I found this." He held out his hand, presenting a small piece of blood-stained silver, the only remains of Cari's beautiful necklace. "She-someone broke it off, Master…"

"I can see that!" Martin bellowed. Without warning, he backhanded the acolyte across the face and sent the shard flying into the air. Shaking, the acolyte slowly rose to his feet, holding a hand to his bleeding lip.

"What n-now, Master?" he asked quietly, staring at his feet, "Are we to go find her? She'll be in Neverwinter now, I'm sure of it."

"No," Martin growled, turning back to look into the font, "We bide our time. Enough of this. She has humiliated me for the last time."

"But Master-"

"_Are you questioning me?_" he roared, firing off a spell that made the very walls of the temple shake. The acolyte shook his head. Setting his jaw, Martin took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. "Good. We will wait. And then, when the time is right, Carianna will _die_. She will see everything, her friends, her kin… that flea-bitten ranger and their disease-ridden offspring… that little whore will see it _burn_."


	28. Some Truths Revealed

**Author's Note: **Yay, finally, I updated! Okay, everyone, you'll have to forgive me for both the length of this chapter, and how dark it is. XD I know it's longer than my others, but I felt as though there was too much going on to cut anything out, so... I hope it reads quickly! This one was also edited by my boyfriend, rather than my usual editor, so I hope the style hasn't changed too much.

And I'd also like to apologise if anyone didn't get a thank you for their review. I've been fighting with my ISP of late, over exceptionally slow connectivity and 'blackout' periods, where it would just cut out for no reason, like it did when I was filling out my replies to everyone. :cries: It's finally stable, though I really couldn't ever get a proper reason out of Comcast. Got a lot of lies and crap, but no true reason as to why I pretty much had no internet for a month. :P So I'm not sure if my replies got out or not, and if they didn't, I'd like to thank everyone here, again, for their kind words and support and suggestions, they've really been so wonderful and encouraging for me, so thank you all, so very, very much.

(And to Churr: :giggles: Ah, it would make sense that you would know about the necklace, then! Well, I appreciate you not spoiling it, and I'm still very glad that you caught on with that. And thanks for the suggestions about word choice, I went back and adjusted it, thank you! :offers more cookies:)

(Also, if anyone wants to get a hold of me, or see my attempts at some art, I've got a deviantart site! XD It's my Homepage on my profile, so if you want, you can message me or see me attempt to draw Cari and Bishop and other things. :laughs: There are chibis there! Enjoy!)

* * *

Cari awoke the following morning to the feel of soft lips on the side of her neck.

_Oh, Gods, _she groaned, irritated that Martin was waking her so early, _not again! I barely got any sleep last night as it is! _

_Can't the bastard just do it himself for once?_

Instinctively, she shifted away, towards the edge of the bed, but then stopped, having caught the scent of pine and smoke.

_Pine? Here?_

_What in the Hells?_

_Wait a moment… _she thought, relieved, the memories of the previous night finally rushing back to her. Her eyes flew open, and she was first greeted by the bright rays of orange sunlight streaming through her bedroom window, and then by Bishop's trousers tossed haphazardly over her chair.

_I'm back at the Flagon. Gods, I-I'm home. _

_I'm home…_

_I'm free…_

_And I'm back with Bishop…_

As though he had heard her thoughts, a warm, rough hand trailed its way over her breasts.

"You're awake," Bishop whispered, gently caressing the soft mounds, "Good."

Feeling happier than she had in weeks, she rolled over to face him, a small smile playing on her lips as he slid his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against him.

"I am now," she murmured, yawning widely, resting her delicate hands against his powerful chest, "I take it you had a reason for waking me up? It's not like you let me get much sleep last night anyway…"

Bishop chuckled. "Perhaps it's the same reason I had earlier?" he replied, grinning wickedly, "Or perhaps I wanted a few more moments alone with you before your blasted uncle tells the whole damn tavern you're back."

"Maybe it's both?" She grinned. Bishop didn't reply, instead choosing to gently roll her over on her back, so that her dark hair fanned out on the pillow above her head. He propped himself up on his elbow beside her and wrapped his other arm around her waist, idly caressing one of her nipples with his thumb and forefinger.

_Hells, _he thought to himself, smiling as Cari wrapped her arms around his shoulders, _how I've missed this. I've missed her…_

_Nothing like sleepin' by yourself in the Mere to make you realize just how much you enjoy a warm bed and a soft woman at night…_

_A woman like Cari…_

Noticing his smile, Cari smiled back at him and brought a hand down to caress his unshaven cheek with her fingertips. "Careful," she whispered teasingly, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, "You look happy. It's a change."

Bishop's smile quickly faded, as though such an expression were one of weakness. "Do I?" he said wryly, brushing a long strand of her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear, "It's entirely by accident, I assure you."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, but before she could respond, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Lass?" The door opened a crack, and Cari saw the tip of Duncan's nose enter the room. "If yer awake, there're some people here who'd love to see you."

Groaning slightly, Cari sat up and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. "I'm awake, Duncan. Please tell the others I'll be out in a short while." She saw Duncan's nose nod in acknowledgement before her door snapped shut again.

With a heavy sigh, she fell back on the bed, only to notice that Bishop had already started gathering his clothes. Knowing that nothing more would happen that morning, she reluctantly rolled out of bed and started rummaging through her trunk, looking for something clean to wear, that _wasn't _her disgusting set of robes.

_Gods, did Duncan wash _anything _while I was gone? _She griped, tossing dirty tunic after dirty tunic onto the floor. _Let's see… dirty, dirty, Bishop's, dirty__…_

After finally finding a clean tunic and a pair of leather breeches at the bottom of the trunk, she straightened up and started pulling them on, unaware that Bishop was watching her.

He hadn't gotten a good look at her since her rescue. It had been dark, so when he'd finally gotten her out of those heavy robes, he hadn't been able to see anything - not that he was truly looking anyway - but now, as she stood half-clothed in the bright morning light, he could see, for the first time, how different her body looked.

_Her belly… _He thought, eyeing the bulge apprehensively, _the baby…_

Her stomach protruded quite obviously now, so much so that she was struggling to ease her breeches over her hips.

_Hells… that's my baby… _

Our _baby… _

He shivered at the thought. This was something he wasn't ready for, something he would _never _be ready for.

_And yet it happened…_

_And I have _no _idea what to do…_

Having finally fought her way into her clothing, Cari turned to face Bishop and at last, noticed his stare. "Bishop?" she asked warily, instinctively folding her arms over herself, "What are you looking at?"

He blinked, torn from his thoughts, and then lowered his eyes and pulled his trousers on the rest of the way in an attempt to buy time for a response. "Nothing," he said stupidly, unable to think of something else to say, "You look… different."

"Different, _how?_" Cari asked, suddenly self-conscious, "I haven't grown a second head or something, have I?"

Bishop chuckled quietly. "No, Cari, no second head. You just look… different." He made a curve-like gesture in the air with his hands. "It's… different. Not bad different, just different."

Cari raised her eyebrows, no less confused than she had been. Not wanting to push the issue, she simply sighed and gestured at the door. "Hungry?"

He walked over to her and linked his fingers with hers, using his free hand to slip his quiver and bow up on his shoulder. "Starving." He nodded in the direction of the common room. "Better not keep everyone waiting."

--

"Why did you bring your bow, Bishop?" Cari whined, wincing as it smacked her in the backside for what felt like the thousandth time, "What can you possibly use it for now?"

Cari, Bishop, and Casavir had finally escaped the emotional frenzy that was breakfast and were passing through the gates that led to the Blacklake District. After the initial shock of everyone finding out that she was pregnant, and after Grobnar had declared that she looked 'puffy,' breakfast had turned out to be quite enjoyable. Cari was happy to be back with her friends again, even if Neeshka had nearly knocked her to the floor with her ferocious hug.

"Maybe I can get some shooting practice in?" he replied, shifting his bow higher on his shoulder, "Shoot some of those imps you just _had _to let loose?"

Cari rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but paused as they walked past the temple to Lathander. "What's going on here?" she asked, noticing the crowd of city guards standing around Aldanon's Manse, "Sergeant… Brockenburn, is it?"

The middle-aged man turned to her, slightly startled by her interruption. "Oh… Carianna!" he exclaimed, gesturing at her with his worn, iron-shod club, "Well, err, you see, we have a bit of a problem going on here…"

"What kind of problem?" Her frown deepened as they neared the gate, and her jaw dropped as she saw Marshal Cormick lying on the ground, barely breathing, with two shabbily-dressed men standing behind him, bickering over something.

Brockenburn made a face. "Not sure. I'm pretty sure Cormick interrupted a robbery, but I can't tell. All I know is that those two idiots came out of the house and blasted Cormick before he could say anything." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Perhaps you'd like to talk to 'em? I know you work for Axle, and I know they're more scared of him than they are of us. We just want to get Cormick out of there. Will you help us? Maybe they'd be more willing to talk to a pregnant woman than ol' me," he chuckled, nodding at her belly.

Cari smiled wryly. "I suppose I don't have a choice, do I?" Brockenburn shook his head and gestured for his men to back up. Cari sighed and turned to Bishop. "Keep a hold on your bow, and don't hesitate to shoot if things go wrong, all right?"

"Glad I brought my bow now?" he asked sarcastically. Cari gave him a look, but Bishop chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, all right," he growled. He paused, and Cari started as he suddenly brought his hand up to her face and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone.

Cari froze. His movement was jerky, and slightly awkward, as though such a gesture was painfully foreign, and before she could react, Bishop dropped his hand and cleared his throat. "Be careful," he mumbled, not missing the way she touched her cheek, where his fingers had been a moment earlier, "I'll be here."

"I… I will be," she whispered, taking a deep breath, "Don't worry." Bishop and Casavir walked over to where Brockenburn and the other guards were waiting, and Cari took a few hesitant steps forward, towards Cormick and the two thugs.

"Oi!" one of them shouted, pointing the wand at her, "Who're you?"

She instinctively dropped one hand to shield the baby, even as she raised the other in a half-wave. "Name's Cari," she said softly, as kindly as she could manage, "And you are?"

"I'm Hewe," the taller one blurted out, eyeing her apprehensively, "This one's Gulver."

The shorter man, the man holding the wand, blanched. "Whad'ya do that fer? Why'd ye tell the wench our names?"

"She told us 'ers," Hewe replied stupidly, "Didn' she?"

"Whaddya want, _Cari?_" Gulver asked coldly, "I know who ye werk for-"

"Who?" Hewe whispered, "Who does she werk fer?"

"Axle, ye nit!"

Hewe paled. "Oh, Gods, Axle…"

Cari shook her head. "I'm not here on Axle's business, boys," she said smoothly, taking a few more steps towards them, "You just happen to have a friend of mine there, and I just want to get him the help he needs. You boys are in a lot of trouble already, and if Cormick dies…" She made a slashing gesture across her throat with a finger. "You boys are in way over your head. Just let the Marshal go, and we can work this out…"

"We'll let him go," Gulver snickered, padding around her in a circle and eyeing her lecherously, "For the right price. Yer awful pretty, and it _has_ been a while…"

Cari's pale skin turned a faint shade of green as she caught a whiff of the man's body odor.

_Try not to vomit… Try not to vomit… Things might go bad if you do that…_

"Even wit' that belly…" Gulver murmured, staring openly at Cari's breasts and stomach, "It's been ages since I've 'ad a wench, _Cari_. Maybe we could werk somethin' out somewhere more… private?"

Hewe elbowed Gulver in the ribs, having seen the look on Bishop's face. "Gulver, maybe you oughta shut yer trap…"

Gulver ignored him, instead choosing to tap Cari's thighs with the wand. "So, Cari, what'cha say? I'm sure Ophala'd put us up fer a few, if ye wanna... negotiate."

Cari's mouth thinned and she clenched her jaw, her eyes suddenly cold.

_All right, enough of this. I'm not some tavern wench for him to play with._

"Oh, please," she spat, disgusted, "If it came down to a contest between you and a troll, I'd seriously have to think about it. I'm not some whore you can use at your leisure, you _bastard_."

Gulver's lip curled. "All right, ye icy bitch," he growled, brandishing the wand, "Ye and yer friend are-"

Before he could finish, an arrow flew over Cari's head and embedded itself in Gulver's forehead. Almost instantly, the wand slipped from his grasp and he collapsed to the ground beside Cormick. With a roar of fury, Hewe drew his sword, grabbed a handful of Cari's hair and yanked her in front of him.

"Stupid move!" he shouted, pressing the edge of his blade against Cari's neck, "Ye try that again, and I'll-I'll… I'll slice 'er belly open!"

Grunting slightly, Cari pulled against his hold on her, wincing in pain as his sword cut into her flesh. She hadn't caught the stutter, the hesitation in his words.

_You bastard. You'd kill my baby._

_You won't _touch _my baby._

Across the way, Bishop twirled a second arrow between his fingers.

_I don't think I can hit him with Cari in the way. _

_He may be taller by a head, but he could still duck behind her…_

_Oh…_

His grip on his bow slackened slightly as Cari suddenly slammed her elbow into Hewe's stomach, a blow that was followed by two more: one to his foot and another to his nose as he doubled over in agony. As Cari ducked out of the way, Hewe dropped his sword.

"No, please, I-I'm sorry!" he gasped, holding out his hands and backing away, "Please, I-I surrender! Don't hurt me!"

Sensing a chance to intervene, Casavir quickly walked towards her. "We're coming in to get him, Cari," he called out to her, "Just keep away, you-Cari? Cari!"

Finally free, Cari smiled darkly at the trembling man. "You surrender?" she whispered, her voice dripping with malice, "Surrender?" Hewe nodded, terrified. She chuckled evilly, and slowly picked up his forgotten sword. "Well, in that case…"

"Oh, Gods," Casavir shouted, realizing what she was going to do, "Cari, no! He surrendered!" He lunged for her, but it was too late. Hewe's eyes widened as he suddenly found his own sword in his stomach.

"You should have thought of surrendering," she hissed, driving the blade in even deeper, "Before you threatened to kill my baby."

She pulled the weapon free, and Hewe staggered. "But, I," he choked, blood dripping out of his mouth, "I surrendered…"

Cari dropped the sword and watched as he slumped to the ground. "I don't care." She turned to Cormick, who was gazing at her with a strange mixture of fear and disgust on his face.

"What?" she snapped, wiping Hewe's blood off of her hands and onto the fallen man's cloak, "You saw. He threatened to kill my baby."

Cormick shook his head. "Yes, Cari," he coughed, wincing in pain, "He did. But he also surrendered."

"Who cares?" she scoffed, nodding for the guards to come over and pick up Cormick, "He was going to kill my baby. I was defending myself."

For a very long, uncomfortable moment, Cormick stared at her, as though seeing her for the first time. As the guards lifted him onto their makeshift stretcher, he smiled sadly. "I see the rumors are true, Cari. I had just hoped they weren't."

Cari's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What rumors?"

Cormick weakly waved a hand. "Forget I said anything," he grunted, sighing heavily. He looked older, much older, as though a powerful weight were settling over him. "But I've been meaning to have a talk with you anyway. You'll know where to find me. Please, I think we'd better."

She paused, her curiosity battling against her desire to stay away from members of the City Watch.

_What would Axle think? No doubt he'd disapprove…_

_Not to mention Cormick's history with Lorne… _

_Is that why he wants to talk to me? About Lorne?_

After a few moments of thinking, she nodded, her curiosity winning out over her common sense. "What about?"

"Please, Cari," he said feebly, "Later."

Cari pursed her lips, but she said nothing, she simply watched as Cormick was carried away, no doubt to the Temple of Tyr in the Merchant Quarter. She jumped at the touch of Bishop's hand on her shoulder.

"That man," he growled, his grip tightening on his bow, "Who is he?"

"Another Harborman," she answered softly, "Nobody important." She frowned at Bishop's disbelieving stare. "Really, Bishop, I barely know him. I barely knew him from West Harbor. He just wants to talk to me. That's all." Cari watched the muscles in his jaw twitch. "You're welcome to come with me, Bishop, if you wish to-"

Bishop shook his head. "No, I believe you. And I'd rather not go anywhere near one of Tyr's holy sites again." He jerked his thumb in the direction of Aldanon's door. "We should probably get our gear. No telling what we'd find in there."

"Of course," Cari murmured, noticing the look of cold fury on Casavir's face, "Let's go back to the Flagon. We'll come back."

They had only taken a few steps when Casavir finally spoke, his voice shaking with barely-contained rage.

"Why did you kill that man, Cari?" he growled, "He had surrendered. You should have honored that."

"He threatened my baby," she hissed in reply, throwing an awkward smile towards the guards at the gate, "I couldn't take any chances."

"We could have _arrested _him," he snapped, following her past the Mask, "We could have found out how many were waiting for us inside the Manse!"

Cari chewed on her tongue, buying time for a suitable response. As they finally passed through the door to the Flagon, she said something that finally pushed Casavir over the edge.

"Well," she smirked, turning the corner to her room, "Oops."

Casavir stopped in his tracks, so hastily that Grobnar bumped into the back of his legs.

"My, Sir Casavir," he said cheerfully, skipping off to don his armor, "You should be more careful!"

Absentmindedly waving a hand, Casavir took a deep breath and stormed after Cari, not believing what she had said. He found her in her room, struggling to get her leathers over her belly.

"We need to talk," he said coldly, shutting the door behind him, "Where's Bishop?"

"Grabbing some more potions from Sand," Cari replied smoothly, loosening and refastening the buckles over her stomach, "Why?"

"Good. We need to talk in private." Cari raised her eyebrows as Casavir folded his arms over his chest.

"Talk about what?" she asked, confused, sweeping her hair up into a tight bun, "Everything all right?"

"No, Cari, it's not all right." He frowned and set his jaw, his dark eyebrows a harsh line above his icy blue eyes. "How can you be so calm about killing that man? He surrendered!"

"He threatened my baby," she said matter-of-factly, "Simple as that."

"No, Cari, it's not!" he exclaimed, exasperated, "He had surrendered! You were to honor that!"

Cari narrowed her eyes. "I don't like your tone, Casavir. Don't tell me what to do."

"Not only did you kill him after he had surrendered," he continued, his frustration mounting, "But you killed someone who could have aided us! He could have let us know how many were in there-"

"As I said," Cari said through clenched teeth, "Oops."

Casavir stared at her. "You killed a man, and all you can say is 'oops?'"

"I've killed many more men than Hewe, Casavir," Cari snapped, "It's not like it's a big deal to me."

She turned to grab her swords, and she stopped abruptly as she looked at her hands, noticing a black sheen hovering over her skin. Furious, she turned back to him.

"You…" she hissed, her lip curling, shaking her head from side to side as the black cloud that surrounded her like an aura faded with Casavir's concentration, "What did you do to me?" She felt cold and uncomfortable, as though something were pulling at her heart, her soul.

Casavir bowed his head. "I did not wish to believe it," he said sadly, "I did not _want_ to believe it. You are evil."

"How-?" She narrowed her eyes as she realized what he had done. "You cast something on me, didn't you?" When he said nothing, furious color rose in her cheeks. "You-you bastard!" she snarled, clenching her fists, "What gives you the right to scry me?"

"Cari-"

"No!" she shouted, "You don't trust me!"

"And it appears that I should not," he murmured, his eyes suddenly icy, "You are evil, Cari. I did not wish to see it. I see it now."

Cari rolled her eyes. "So, your little spell seems to think that I'm 'evil.' Have you ever seen me do anything 'evil,' Casavir, save for Hewe? Have I ever treated you with anything other than kindness?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, before taking a deep breath and finally speaking.

"Malin."

"What?"

"Malin," Casavir said coldly, "You needn't have tried to kill her. It was obvious that she had given up, that she was unconscious, but you still-"

She chuckled darkly and narrowed her eyes. "So I got a little… angry," she said harshly, "I don't tolerate being attacked-"

"You started it. The barkeep said-"

"So what if I started it?" Cari snarled, finally losing her temper, "So what if I did? The little bitch deserved it. You could see it in the way she looked at me that she thought I was filth, just another of Bishop's stupid whores. But I'm not," she spat, baring her teeth, "I'm not just another of Bishop's stupid whores. And I'm _not_ filth."

"That gives you no reason to try to kill her," Casavir growled, "You should not let a moment of anger control you as it did-"

"A moment of anger?" she whispered, her eyes glittering with malevolence and spite, "Is that what happened with Harcus? Is that what Harcus was, a moment of anger?"

Casavir paled. "How-how do you know about that?"

"Believe it or not, paladin," she sneered, "Bishop and I occasionally do things other than bed each other. Like talk. He told me all about it. And you know what?" She took a step forward, her lips set in a hard line. "I pitied you. I thought you had made a mistake, gotten in over your head, like so many young men do. I thought that you were wronged. I even hated Ophala for it. It even made me want to protect you from her. But now…" She shook her head. "I don't care." She threw her hands up in the air. "I'm obviously evil, because I did the same thing you did. Got in over my head, and attacked a rival in a moment of anger."

"It's not the same," Casavir replied, his voice slowly rising to a shout, "It's not the same, Cari! Harcus attacked me! I was tricked! I was fighting for the honor of a woman I thought I loved!"

Cari's mouth thinned. "Honor," she scoffed, "Honor. What do you think I was fighting for, paladin? What little of it I have left. I don't take kindly to being insulted. I don't take kindly to people who think they're better than I am." Cari smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes, only hatred, a cruelty that made Casavir step back. "So tell me, _paladin_, how am I any different from you? We were both fighting for our own honor, for our lover, against a rival, who attacked us? How-?"

"No." Casavir shook his head. "No, Cari. I won't have you twist this back on me. You are evil, I am not. If you and I had done the same thing, I…" He swallowed hard, trying to quell the nausea in his stomach at the thought. "I would have fallen, Cari."

Cari stared at him. "That's what the difference is?" she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief, "That's the difference? You would have fallen? Does that mean I already have?" Her mouth thinned as comprehension dawned on her. "Is that what this is all about, Casavir?" she hissed, walking towards him, "Are you afraid that you'll fall from grace? I don't know much about paladins, but I know that they're always afraid of falling, and I know that they're not supposed to stay around 'evil' people… unless…" She closed her eyes, her heart aching in a way she didn't expect. "Unless they want to 'save' them. Is that why you're still with me, Casavir? You hope to _save_ me?"

Casavir looked down at his hands. "I-I don't know, Cari," he answered truthfully, "I don't know why I'm with you. I care for you, I do, but you are evil. You have shown that. I…" He took a deep, steadying breath, "I think you're better than that. I _know _you're better than that. I-I just want you to see it for yourself. I want to help you-"

"You want to 'save' me!" Cari roared, ashamed that she had trusted him, embarrassed color rising in her cheeks, "Hells, I'm a fool! Here I was, thinking that you were my friend, my friend who was with me because you accepted me for who I am…" She turned away, not wanting him to see how upset she was as furious tears welled in her eyes, "But no. I'm such a fool, such a gods-damned fool."

He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "Cari, I-"

"No!" She pulled away, the barrier of her restraint finally crashing. "No! I'm tired of this! I'm tired of people wanting to change me! I've made peace with myself, Casavir, I know what I am. I don't care if it's cruel and dark, I am finally at peace." Suddenly, she looked up at him, her face a terrifying mask of pain and fury. "And that's good enough for me. If you have any problems with it, you can either shut your holy mouth and deal with it, or leave. Your choice, but I'm not going to stay here and deal with _you_. Now _get out of my way,_" she snarled, drawing her swords, "And stay away from me. If you don't, I'll run you through, and don't for a _moment _think that I'm joking."

Without another word, Cari wiped the tears off her cheeks and swept out the door, leaving Casavir alone in her room, unsure of where to go, unsure of what to do...

Unsure about _everything_.


	29. Horror and Mercy

**Author's Note: **Yay, finally, an update! I'm sorry it took so long, I had lots of personal things going on over these last two months, but I've worked through them, so I'm back to writing! XD Anyway, this author's note is going to be long, my apologies on that. I'm currently rewriting/updating my older chapters (I've only got Chapters 1, 3, 7, and 8 done to my liking, but 2, 4, 5, and 6 should be done soon), mainly because I went over them and started cringing at how... bland they were. So I'm fixing that. I would really love some feedback on the changes, if anyone would like to give it. I'm not fishing for more reviews, :P, I just want to know if the changes I made were for the better or not. PMs, reviews, smoke signals, carrier pigeons... I just want to know what you guys think, because your opinions really matter a whole lot to me, :D

Now, on to the warning for this chapter, :) This chapter is... rather dark and emotionally intense, as it delves a bit into Cari's rape. There are two reasons for this: one, because I wanted to develop Cari's character, as cold and clinical as that sounds, and for another, more personal reason. Lately, I've been seeing a lot of authors here on the Pit, not necessarily in the NWN section, but just around, that seem to think that rape is akin to breaking a fingernail. It's distressing to see the number of authors who have an, "Oh, I got raped. And then I went to McDonald's for a Big Mac!" attitude regarding it. I'm not saying that all authors do this, but a frightening number do. And I just wanted to do my part and (hopefully) show that rape is traumatising, something that most people don't just brush off, like one would a bad haircut. I am sure that some people in the world managed to deal with it within minutes and go get that Big Mac, but many others don't, and I want to show that other side. I know I can't change all of fandom, but I just feel like trying to do my part to help stop trivialising rape.

Anyway, enough of my rambling, here is the chapter! And a special, heartfelt thanks to the wonderful Iridaesin and anesor, who have helped me a lot of late. Massive kudos to you! XD And cookies!

* * *

Casavir had no idea what to do. He ran his hand through his thick hair, and groaned to himself as an errant stray strand of gray came off between his fingers. It had been two days since he and Cari had fought, two days he had spent wondering what to do, or doing what Duncan called, 'moping.'

He had never been confronted with such a situation before. He was used to evil being so obvious, so straightforward - the orcs at Old Owl Well, and men like Martin, and Lorne - but Cari was different. She was young, and pregnant, and while he knew that there was still good lurking within her, somewhere inside her, she refused to see it.

And Casavir still had absolutely no idea what to do.

At first, he had turned to Cari's other companions, to ask their thoughts on the matter, but the more he spoke with them, the more he realized that he wasn't going to get _anywhere. _Elanee was pleasantly aloof as usual, saddened to learn of the man's death, but oddly understanding of Cari's actions. Grobnar, while kind and eager to help, seemed strangely accepting of what Cari had done, though Casavir noted that it was probably due to Grobnar's good-natured absentmindedness. Neeshka and Qara both seemed not to care, and Sand seemed to be irritated that he was even asked about it, saying he had more important things to do than to be Cari's keeper. Khelgar and Shandra, however, seemed to be keeping their distance from Cari, something that Casavir hadn't expected would happen, and though Shandra offered him what advice she could, it was Khelgar who had the best idea.

"Lad, listen," Khelgar had said thoughtfully, taking a long drink from the mug of ale in his hand, "If you are so concerned about you and the lass, why don'tcha talk to that Hlam fellow, from the temple? He seems very knowledgeable. He might talk in riddles, but he'll know better than anyone what you should do."

Casavir had left the Flagon early in the morning, when the Docks were still a deep orange from the sunrise. The Merchant Quarter was nearly deserted, save for the guards at their posts and a few patrons sneaking out of the Mask. When he finally pushed open the doors to the Temple of Tyr, he took a deep breath and sighed, smiling softly, a deep, peaceful feeling settling over him, like he was coming home. He gazed around the temple, and spotted Hlam sitting in a comfortable-looking chair at the other end of the room, with his feet propped up on the small table in front of him and a thick book in his hands.

"Casavir!" Hlam exclaimed cheerfully, pleasantly surprised as Casavir sat down in the chair opposite him, "What brings you here? And so early! It's barely light outside!"

"I need guidance," Casavir said quietly, staring at the floor, "It's about Cari."

"The young squire?" Hlam inquired, setting his book down on the table beside him. Casavir nodded, and Hlam frowned slightly, concerned. "What about her? Is everything all right?"

"No, it-it really isn't," Casavir said painfully, slouching forward to rest his forearms on his knees, "She-she did something horrible. She murdered a man who surrendered, and I used Tyr's power to view her spirit. She-she's evil, Hlam, and I don't know what to do about her anymore. She told me to stay away from her, and I-I don't know what to do, how I feel about all this, about her…"

"You sensed evil in her?" Hlam asked, his frown deepening, "What happened, exactly?"

Casavir took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Hlam what had happened two days ago. The confrontation with the two thugs, how Gulver had propositioned Cari and was promptly killed by Bishop, Hewe's threat and surrender, how Cari had killed him anyway…

"What incited her attack?" Hlam asked after Casavir had finished, having talked himself into a moody silence, "What exactly was this threat? Were her actions unprovoked, or-"

"Hewe threatened to 'slice her belly open,'" Casavir recalled, shuddering slightly at the thought, "Cari's pregnant. He threatened her baby-"

"Did she feel like her baby was in danger?" Hlam interrupted, hoping to understand what had happened, "I'm not condoning her actions. I just want to know what occurred."

"I-I suppose so," Casavir mumbled, "I mean, we were rather far away from her, and there's no way one of us could have gotten to her in time, if Hewe had broken his surrender. Bishop had his bow, but even he's not that fast. I suppose she felt like the baby _was_ in danger."

"She probably did, Casavir, and I'm not saying that what she did was _right_," Hlam said firmly, "But if she wanted to protect her baby…" He gave Casavir a sympathetic smile before continuing. "You've heard how mother bears protect their young, yes?"

"Yes, of course," Casavir said, confused and slightly irritated, "But what-oh." He stopped himself, mid-sentence, as he realized what Hlam was talking about.

"Do you see what I mean?" Hlam asked gently, seeing the understanding on Casavir's face, "Female bears are at their most aggressive, their most vicious when they have cubs. They will attack anything that gets too close to one of her cubs, whether it is friend or foe. I do not think it is wise of Cari to attack anyone who comes near her, but if she felt threatened, if she felt that her baby was in genuine danger… I can see why she acted the way she did, and I think you should overlook her actions here. What if Hewe had reneged on his surrender, and hurt her? He proved willing to use her as a shield, how do we know he would have kept his word? I know that he surrendered, Casavir, but I cannot criticize Cari for acting as she did. She was protecting her baby. Perhaps you should look back for yourself and consider the situation. If the child had been yours, and in imminent danger, what would you have done?"

Casavir sighed and massaged his temples with his forefingers. "If-if it had been my child, or my lover, pregnant with my child… I probably would have done the same thing," he admitted, bowing his head, slightly embarrassed at having condemned Cari as he had, without giving consideration to how she must have felt, "I had not thought about how scared she probably was."

"It's all right, Casavir," Hlam murmured, "You've never had to deal with such a situation before. _I've _never had to deal with such a situation before. While I think you may have overreacted in this case, do not punish yourself for it. This one incident does not make up for what she may have done in the past. I don't know her. I don't know what her life has been like. All I am saying is that, in this one instance…" He gave a half-hearted shrug, noticing the sullen look on Casavir's face. "Well, in any case, I must give her my congratulations on the baby," he said, smiling warmly, hoping to lighten the mood a bit, "And my congratulations to the father as well." He paused, and raised an eyebrow. "Are _you _the father, Casavir?"

"Oh, no," he said hastily, chuckling uncomfortably, "I'm not. It's Bishop, the ranger. Cari and I have never been together." He smiled sheepishly and stared at his hands, folded in his lap. "I mean, we did get close once-"

"'Close?'" Hlam repeated, frowning again, "What do you mean by 'close,' Casavir? I hope it wasn't another repeat of Ophala-"

"It wasn't," Casavir said quickly, holding up his hands, "We kissed, and I stopped it before things got out of hand, even if, at the time, she resented me for it." He paused, and then added quietly, more to himself than to Hlam, "Even if my own _body _resented me for it…"

Hlam chuckled, noticing the tinge of color in Casavir's pale cheeks. "Don't be ashamed of it, Casavir. You are a paladin, yes, but you are also a man. Men, and women, are fallible. We make mistakes. Don't be ashamed if your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You should be proud of yourself for managing to halt things, I am sure that others would not have been as strong. And it's not wrong to seek comfort in the arms of another or to _enjoy_ such comforts, just…"

"With the right woman," Casavir finished, chuckling under his breath, "Not with the woman who's throwing herself at you because she and her lover had a fight."

"Exactly." Hlam gave him a knowing smile. "You enjoyed it, didn't you?" When Casavir looked startled, Hlam let out a short laugh. "That isn't meant to be a criticism, Casavir. I'm not trying to chastise you. I'm just asking a question, and maybe it will help you sort out how you feel about her."

"I-I can't deny that I enjoyed it a bit, yes," Casavir confessed, trying to ignore Hlam's questioning gaze, "She is a very beautiful young woman…"

"But?" Hlam prompted gently, the eyebrow above his good eye raised in interest, "Is there more?"

Casavir chuckled. "You know me too well, old friend," he said dryly, smiling wistfully, "She is beautiful, and desirable, but she was, and still is hurting, and I am sure that she didn't want me because she wanted _me._ She wanted me to prove something to herself, and if I were to take her when she was so vulnerable, in so much pain…" He shook his head, his broad shoulders sagging slightly. "I could not dishonor her like that. I could not dishonor _myself_ like that. I don't care for her in that way. I would have been using her. Perhaps, if things had been different-"

"Do not dwell on what _might_ have happened," Hlam said kindly, reaching out to grasp Casavir's shoulder, "And do not dwell on what _has _happened. I am not saying that her actions now negate what she may have done in the past; she will still face judgment for those. What you need to ask yourself is this: _why_ are you with her now?" Casavir looked up, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. "You do not lust for her, and she has shown herself to be, if not cruel, rash and hot-tempered, her desire to protect her unborn baby aside. What is to stop you from leaving her right now? Why did you come to me, instead of simply leaving? What is it that makes you stay, Casavir?" Hlam smiled softly and released Casavir's shoulder, and then leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "Perhaps you should ask yourself why you even traveled with her in the first place, and maybe then you should decide whether you should leave, or stay."

The two men sat in silence for a long while as Casavir mulled over Hlam's words, reliving old memories in an attempt to remember why he was even traveling with Cari in the first place.

_I care for her, just not as a lover. Is-is it just out of habit? _He thought, idly twisting an errant thread from his tunic between his thumb and forefinger. _Have I been with her so long that I can't even remember why anymore?_

_Well… why was I with her in the first place? Old Owl Well? Or was it more than that?_

_I-I really don't know why. I could have left her after we defeated Logram, but I followed her instead. _Groaning to himself, he held his head in his hands, running his fingers through his dark hair. _Maybe I should have left after she helped me…_

He blinked, mildly startled by his own thoughts. _Maybe that's why I'm still with her. She helped me up there, with more than Logram. She helped me get past the mess with Ophala…_

_She helped me get past the pain. She helped me be happy again. _

_Maybe that's why I'm with her. She helped me get past my pain, and I-I want to help her do the same. I know she's hurting. I want to help her to be happy too, like she helped me._

_Maybe… maybe if she's happy, she'll stop hurting others. She must do it because she thinks it will make her feel better, and it won't, it'll only make her feel worse._

_I just want to help her be happy, like she helped me. _He smiled to himself. _I want her to be happy for her baby too._

_If she'll still talk to me… _He sighed and buried his face in his hands once more. _Gods, I messed that up. I should have realized how scared she was. I know it doesn't excuse it, but I can understand her wanting to protect her baby, and who knows if that man would have kept his word…_

_I hope she'll let me talk to her, explain things to her. She needs to know, and I need to apologize. I hadn't given any thought to her baby, none at all. Maybe I can help her see that I only want to help her. And maybe I do want to 'save her,' but not in the way she's thinking of. I want to save her from her pain, as she did for me. I owe her that much._

"I want to help her," he mumbled, breaking the stillness that surrounded them, "That's why. I want to help her through her pain, so maybe she'll be happy. That's why I'm with her."

"Even if she is evil?" Hlam asked softly, his tone kind, "Is _that_ going to be a problem? Don't let her cause your fall, Casavir."

"Perhaps, if I can help ease her pain, she will change," Casavir murmured, "She is evil because she hurts others. She hurts others to ease her own pain. Maybe if I can help her, she'll stop hurting others. Maybe she'll finally be happy."

"A noble goal," Hlam said, giving Casavir an encouraging smile, "And one I think young Cari will see, if you just explain it to her. Talk to her, Casavir. I have faith that you two will come to an understanding."

"Yeah," Casavir agreed, sighing heavily once more, "If she'll even talk to me-"

Both men looked up as the door to the temple suddenly opened, and Casavir blinked as Cari stepped inside, one hand supporting her ever-growing belly. His heart began pounding against his chest as their eyes met, and then she turned away, ducking into a nearby room, as though trying to get away from him.

"Well," Hlam said softly, watching the door shut behind her, "It appears you might get a chance to talk to her after all."

--

Cari groaned and gave a curt nod to the guard standing at the entrance to the Merchant Quarter. Cormick's invitation still nagged at her, lurking in the back of her mind, and now that the fiasco that was protecting Tavorick had finally ended, Cari had no more excuses to avoid him.

_Gods, _why _do I do this to myself? The damn place is going to make my brands itch… _

She kept whining to herself as she pushed open the doors to the Temple of Tyr, feeling the tattoos on her back and arm start to burn the moment she stepped inside.

_I don't even like Cormick! I'd much rather be back at the Flagon with Bishop right now, even if he is sleeping. I don't even know what-_

She halted, mid-step, as she glanced at the end of the hall and saw Casavir sitting with Hlam, the kind, if not bland man who had aided her during her Rite of Tyr. Even from across the room, she could see that Casavir looked unhappy.

_Good. Serves you right, you self-righteous, hypocritical-_

He looked up from the floor, and for a moment, their eyes met, breaking Cari from her silent tirade.

_Hells, he-he looks _miserable.

_Still… serves him right! Judging me like he did… bastard…_

Cari held their gaze for another few seconds, and then turned away, the words of their earlier fight echoing through her head. Wanting to leave Casavir and Hlam to whatever they were discussing, she pushed her way through the nearest door, and paused as she realized that she had stumbled into what appeared to be a small bedroom, and that it wasn't empty.

Cormick was sitting up in the bed in the middle of the room, engrossed in conversation with a pretty woman with long, red hair who sat in the chair beside him. They both looked up as Cari closed the door behind her, and the red-haired woman suddenly jumped up and hurried over to her, grinning excitedly.

"Oh, hello!" the woman said warmly, giving Cari a bright smile, "You must be Carianna! I'm Alistine, Cormick's wife." Cari briefly returned Alistine's smile and reluctantly took the other woman's offered hand. "He told me what you looked like. I had hoped I would get the chance to thank you in person. You saved his life."

Cari smiled uncomfortably. "Please, it really wasn't anything spectacular. Cormick was never in any real danger-" She jumped as something suddenly wrapped around her leg, and she looked down to see a girl, no older than four, looking up at her with a big, innocent grin on her face.

Cormick chuckled. "Our older daughter, Adalla," he said apologetically, nodding at the pretty girl with thick, brown curls and bright brown eyes, "Our younger daughter, Ellie, just learned to crawl."

"Do you have children of your own?" Alistine asked, noticing the way Cari absentmindedly stroked her swollen belly, "Or is that your first child?" Cari nodded, and Alistine's smile grew kinder. "You and your husband must be excited! Your first child! Congratulations!"

Cari blanched and paled. "I-um-uh… I'm not married," she stuttered, taken aback, "And I'm not sure 'excited' is the right word."

_Terrified is more like it…_

Alistine winced, and then smiled awkwardly. "Oh," she said sheepishly, a blush showing underneath her freckles, "I-I didn't… forgive me, I didn't know."

"It's fine," Cari mumbled, waving her hand dismissively, "No big deal."

Alistine gave her a gracious smile, and then reached out to take the little girl's hand, pulling her away from Cari's leg. "I should probably be taking her home. She'll need a nap soon."

Cari nodded, and then looked up at the ceiling as Alistine leaned over and gave Cormick a quick kiss.

"I'll be back soon, darling," Alistine whispered, smiling as she gave him one more kiss, "You need to rest now. Don't talk too much, all right?" Cormick nodded and sighed, waving as Alistine and Addie passed through the door and shut it behind them.

"Isn't Alistine wonderful?" he asked, smiling as Cari dropped down into the chair beside his bed, "She's smart, beautiful, and can cook like nobody else I know. Gods, I'm lucky."

"She's… nice," Cari murmured, unsure of what to say, "She seems-"

"She's an instructor at the Academy, actually," he continued, as though he hadn't even heard her, so lost was he in his thoughts, "We actually met after someone broke into her home. Stole three books and a lantern. We eventually found who'd done it, a student actually-"

"While this story is fascinating," she interrupted, as politely as she could manage, "Could we please get to why you asked me here?"

"Oh, yes, of course," he said quietly, not realizing that he was babbling, "I suppose I should just get right to it, finally get off my chest, it'll make it less painful-"

"Indeed," Cari agreed, eager to get past whatever Cormick had to say so she could get back to the Flagon, "So? Why am I here right now? Why did you need to talk to me so badly?"

Cormick sighed heavily, his shoulders seeming to slump with the weight of whatever was on his mind. "I suppose it's now or never. Do you remember that last Harvest Fair, Cari, the last one that I competed in?"

She chuckled dryly. "It's kind of hard to forget, Cormick," she said quietly, pursing her lips, "But yes, I remember it. Why do you ask?"

"You remember the Brawl, right?" he asked softly, staring down at his clasped hands, "The one with-"

"With Lorne, yes," she interrupted again, a soft growl passing through her nose at the thought of him, "What's your point? I have no desire to sit around exchanging stories about that _monster_."

"It-it's about Lorne," Cormick mumbled, staring at a crack in a nearby wall, "And about the Brawl. Remember how everyone talked about how I 'tricked' him? How I got him angry and all that?"

"Yes, _yes, _I _remember_," she snapped, increasingly frustrated with his inability to get to the point, "Cormick, what're you trying to get at here? I really don't have all day to sit around here with you reminiscing over not-so-pleasant times."

"Cari, this-this has been wearing on me for a long time," he said softly, still avoiding her gaze as he dropped his gaze back to his clasped hands, "It's not easy to say. It really isn't."

"It won't get any easier with you dodging it," she grumbled, shifting in her chair to lessen the strain on her back from the baby, "Just say it."

"It's not that simple." He took another deep, steadying breath, and finally raised his head to look Cari in the eye. "It's… bad."

Cari frowned, resting one hand on her bulging belly. "How bad?" she asked warily, "What are you getting at?"

Cormick ran his hands down his ruddy face and over his thick beard. "Cari, I… I'm sorry, I am," he said quietly, his tone apologetic, "But I… I told Lorne about you and Bevil during that fight," he blurted out, "I told Lorne you were bedding his brother. I said it to get him angry. And it worked-"

"What are you talking about?" Cari spat, confused, "Lorne knew about Bevil and me. That's why he was so quiet and cold around us. I thought we'd done a good job of keeping our relationship quiet, because of my father, but-"

"You _did_," he said quickly, the painful burden on his chest slowly lifting the longer he spoke, "Lorne didn't know. He was quiet because he didn't know how to talk to you. You sort of… _blossomed_ all at once, Cari. Suddenly, here you were, this beautiful young woman, and Lorne was just confused. And he didn't deal with it well, that's for damn sure. He didn't know about you and Bevil because he was too nervous to _be _around you and Bevil-well, you, really. Nobody in West Harbor knew about you two-"

"Wait a moment," she said quietly, finally understanding what Cormick was telling her, "If nobody in West Harbor knew about Bevil and me, then how did you know?"

"Bevil told me," he admitted, letting out another heavy sigh, "Bevil came to talk to me about some, well, _personal_ things, things he couldn't go to anyone else to, and it didn't take much thinking to know he was talking about either you or Amie, and since it was you I saw sneaking into the Starling's house at night, I kind of figured it out-"

"And you told Lorne?" Cari hissed angrily, aghast, _"You_ told Lorne about us?" She rose from her chair and started slowly pacing back and forth, running her fingers through her long hair. "You betrayed Bevil's trust, and look what happened," she murmured, anger coursing through her like nothing she'd ever felt before, "You told Lorne, and look at what he did to him! _To me!" _ Her knees felt weak, and she dropped onto the bed beside Cormick, her breaths shallow and sharp. "He _raped _me, Cormick! And it's _your fault!"_

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he said softly, fearing that she would react as she had, "I made a mistake, a huge one! I didn't know he would-"

"You didn't know he would beat his own brother half-dead?" she asked sarcastically, "You didn't know that he would beat me too, and he'd only stop to fuck me, and then he'd start beating me again? Do you have any idea what happened to me that night, Cormick? _Do you?" _ She pounded her fist against the bedside table, hard, which only succeeded in causing her hand to hurt. "Part of me died that night, Cormick! Did you know that I screamed? I screamed and I cried and I begged, but nobody came for me. _Nobody came_. So much for the West Harbor folk looking out for their own. Nobody even found me until the next morning, when Retta returned. Bevil wasn't even _moving_. I thought Lorne and those fucking Mossfelds had killed him when I heard Retta scream. _And it's all your fault!" _She was yelling, not caring about who could hear her. "_It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't told him!"_

"Cari," Cormick whispered, lowering his eyes, trying not to let the guilt and the shame of his mistake overwhelm him, "Cari, please, I didn't know he would do that to you. I didn't want that to happen. I never wanted that to happen. I-I'm sorry-"

"You're _sorry?" _Cari mocked, her face a mask of cold fury, "You're _sorry? _Lorne destroyed me, Cormick! And it's _your _fault! You sacrificed me for-for what? A tarnished trophy and a raggedy old cloak?" She let out a dark, harsh chuckle. "You have no idea what the worst thing he did to me was, do you?" Cormick shook his head, part of him not wanting to hear what she had to say. "The worst part was that he _made me enjoy it,_" she growled, her voice becoming more crazed the longer she spoke, shivering at the hideous memory, but wanting him to know just how much Lorne had hurt her, wanting him to feel the pain she felt, "I've never told anyone that, but he did. That fucking bastard made me enjoy it. Do you have any idea how filthy I felt when he was done with me? I felt betrayed by my own body, you bastard. Do you have any idea how… _disgusting_ it felt to be begging for him to stop, begging and pleading and whimpering and crying, only to have him force you to feel pleasure? That was the worst of it. He kept telling me I deserved it, that I deserved what he was doing to me because I enjoyed it. I couldn't help it. I wanted him to stop, I begged him to stop… but I couldn't help it. I hated myself for it. I still hate myself for it. How could my body enjoy something like that? How-"

"I didn't know," he pleaded, horrified at what she was telling him, wanting her to believe him, wanting her to understand that it had been a mistake, a mistake he regretted more than anything, but still not knowing what to say, "I didn't know that Lorne would do that to you, Cari. I didn't. I swear. If I could fix it, Cari, I would. I'm so sorry…"

"Fix it," she muttered, more to herself than to Cormick, "Fix it…" Her eyes suddenly narrowed, and in one smooth movement, she yanked her dagger from the sheath on her thigh and tucked it beneath Cormick's chin. "Will killing you _fix it_, Cormick?" she whispered wildly, "Will killing you make my pain stop? Will killing you make the nightmares stop?" Cormick winced as the edge of her blade cut into his flesh. "Did you know that I still have nightmares? They're not as frequent as they used to be, but I still have them. I still wake up screaming, Cormick. If I'm not screaming, I'm usually thrashing, or I'll be begging. I'll be begging Lorne to stop." Cari shook her head, as though trying to clear the unpleasant memories from her mind. "You don't know how many times I've woken up shaking in Bishop's arms. You have no _idea _what Lorne did to me-"

"I'm _sorry_," he whimpered, feeling utterly helpless, his muscles still not strong enough to fight back, even against such a small opponent, "I am, Cari, but please, don't kill me. Killing me won't change anything. But _please_, don't kill me. Please-"

"Why?" she hissed through clenched teeth, the smile on her face cruel and cold as she dragged the tip of her dagger down his throat, drawing a few drops of his blood, "Give me one good reason, Cormick. Beg for your life. C'mon. Beg for it. I'll even wait for it. Tell me _why _I shouldn't-"

"My daughters," he blurted out, again wincing in pain as tears welled in his eyes, "My wife, and my daughters. My family. Don't take me away from them. They need me. I love them. Please, don't kill me. I don't want them to suffer." The tears spilled out the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks. "I love them, Cari." He took a deep, shuddering breath, more terrified for his life, for his family than he had been in ages. "Don't take me away from my family. Please, don't. Please…"

Cari froze mid-taunt, bewildered, the tip of the dagger still poking against his throat.

_I… I…_

_Oh, Gods, I-what-no…_

_Nobody… nobody has _ever _mentioned their family. _

_His family. No families. No children. Not again. _

Seeing her falter, Cormick took a deep, careful breath, her blade still dangerously close to the artery in his neck. "Cari, please," he pleaded, catching and holding her gaze, "What if-what if someone killed the father?" His eyes briefly fell to her swollen belly before locking on hers once more. "What if you lost the father? Don't put my wife through that. I love her. I protect her, like I couldn't protect you. Let me live, Cari, for her, for them."

Cari stared at him, and the hand wrapped around her dagger started to shake. She had no idea what to do. She hated him, _hated _him for what he did to her…

_But Bishop…_

For a moment, her thoughts drifted off, bringing dark, painful images to the forefront of her mind, images she had once seen in Martin's temple. She knew that Bishop didn't want the baby, but the thought of raising it alone, and of never seeing him again…

_Of-of having to bury him…_

The sudden image of her kneeling before his grave filled her heart with a crushing dread, the same overwhelming fear and despair that had gripped her back in Martin's temple, when she had been tricked into thinking Bishop had been killed.

_Gods, no… please, no…_

_Not that, I-I don't know if I could bear it. Not again._

_No, not him. No…_

After taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, Cari sat back, pulling her dagger away from Cormick's neck, and he let out a loud, relieved sigh. "Thank you," he whispered, smiling weakly, "Thank you, Cari. And I'm sorry. I really am. I-"

They both started as the door opened unexpectedly. "My love," Alistine said cheerfully, carefully balancing a tray of food on one arm as she closed the door behind her, "I brought some lunch, I thought-" She stopped abruptly at the sight of the blood both on Cormick's neck and the dagger still in Cari's hand. "What's going on?" She narrowed her eyes as she walked over and set the tray down on the table beside his bed.

"Nothing," Cari said hastily, swiftly sheathing her dagger, "Just… a misunderstanding."

Alistine's blue eyes were cold as she brushed her fingers over the cut in Cormick's neck. "A misunderstanding?" she said harshly as Cari quickly stood up, all of her earlier friendliness gone, "Then why is my husband bleeding? I saw fresh blood on your dagger!" Cari grimaced as she saw comprehension wash over Alistine's face. "You-did you hurt him?"

"No," Cari lied, shaking her head as she backed up towards the door, "No, I-I didn't-"

"_Then why is he bleeding?" _she cried, her voice steadily rising to a scream as she pointed to the cut in Cormick's throat, _"That wasn't there when I left! You tried to kill him! After _saving _him!"_

"_Quiet_," Cari hissed, panic threatening to overwhelm her, "Do you want the whole temple hearing you?"

_Or the guards?_

_Gods, what do I do _now?

"_Get out!" _Alistine shrieked, gesturing violently at the door, arcane energy bristling at her fingertips, _"Now! Get out!"_

For a moment, Cari hesitated, and her right hand twitched as her fingertips brushed the hilt of her dagger.

_Do I run, or do I silence the bitch?_

_Kill her. Shut her up. She'll tell the guards._

_If I kill her, I'll have to kill Cormick too…_

_Yes, and?_

_But… their daughters…_

_Who cares? They'll survive._

_Even the baby?_

_They'll survive. Think of yourself here._

Her hand brushed over her dagger again, and her fingers curled slightly around the handle.

_The guards. I-what'll happen?_

_You'll get arrested. Eliminate the witnesses._

_Ye-wait, what?_

_Eliminate the witnesses._

Cari took a horrified step back as Martin's voice suddenly echoed through her mind.

_Eliminate the witnesses._

_You-no, he-he used to say that!_

_Then do it!_

_I-no! I won't! Not this time! I won't kill them!_

_The guards-_

_All they have right now is a cut. They've got nothing. If I come out of here, covered in blood, and their throats are slashed, Casavir and Hlam will see me, and I'm stuck. There's no way around it. I'm guilty. _

_I'm running._

Before she could think about it anymore, she turned around, yanked the door open and stormed out, not bothering to close it behind her as she raced towards the exit, feeling Casavir's piercing eyes on her back as she dashed outside, wiping tears off her face.


End file.
